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Total Recall
The Destroyer #58
by Richard Sapir & Warren Murphy
Copyright © 1984
by Richard Sapir and Warren Murphy
All Rights Reserved.
Total Recall
A Peanut Press Book
Published by
peanutpress.com, Inc.
www.peanutpress.com
ISBN: 0-7408-0852-4
First Peanut Press Edition
This edition published by
arrangement with
Boondock Books
www.boondockbooks.com
CHAPTER ONE
Billy Martin was fifteen years old, and already he was a repulsive little toad. That meant that when he grew up, he might graduate to a full-fledged snake— if he grew up.
Which right now looked doubtful because Billy Martin was in jail, charged with the murder of his parents, whom he had bludgeoned to death while they slept in their home in the Detroit suburbs.
The judge who handled the youth's arraignment was Wallace Turner, a notorious bleeding heart who could somehow find, in his speeches, some reason to blame society for every crime committed against it. The press covering the arraignment winked at each other, knowing that Billy would not only be released without bail; he might very well get a medal from Judge Turner for not killing his parents earlier. After all, it must have been their fault that their son was a murderer. But Turner surprised everyone. He ordered Billy held for trial as an adult murderer and set a half-million-dollar bail. He would stay in jail, Turner said. He belonged in jail.
Turner's harsh action shocked everyone involved with the Billy Martin case— everyone except the prosecutor, who had told the judge before the proceedings that if the Martin kid were set free like every other juvenile killer who went before Turner, the prosecutor would be sure to let the press in on Turner's relationship with a woman in Grosse Pointe who went by the professional name of Didi the Dominatrix.
"You can posture and preach from the bench all you want, Wally," the prosecutor said. "Just so you know when to bend in the wind." He winked at Judge Turner.
Turner winked back and bent so fast he almost broke his back. At the arraignment, he announced in his mellowest tones that the crime involved was of such heinous character that he would be derelict in his duty if he were lenient.
Immediately after announcing his decision, Judge Wallace Turner left the bench and retreated to his chambers, where he removed his robes and sat behind his desk with a sigh to await a phone call. Even though he was expecting it, he jumped when the phone rang.
"Judge Turner," he said into the receiver.
"Satisfactory," a man's voice said in low tones. "Very satisfactory."
"Uh, th-thank you," the judge stammered, but by the time he got it out, he was holding a dead phone.
* * *
Across town another phone rang, this one in the office of a lawyer named Harvey Weems. Weems had not won a case in four years, but he was without equal as an ambulance chaser. When the phone rang, he looked at it dispassionately, trying to decide whether or not to answer it. Lately, no one called him except creditors and clients threatening to sue him for mishandling their cases.
After fifteen rings, he couldn't take the suspense any longer. "Attorney's office."
"Is this Harvey Weems, the lawyer?" a man's voice asked.
"Yeah, yeah," Weems said wearily. "How much do I owe you?"
"You don't owe me anything, Mr. Weems."
"All right. How much do you want to sue me for?"
"I don't want to sue you, either."
"I don't owe you money, and you don't want to sue me?"
"That's right."
"You asked for me by name," Weems said, puzzled, "so you can't have the wrong number."
"This phone call could mean a lot of money to you," the voice said.
"Really?"
"Unless I end it now."
Not one to be slow on the uptake, Weems got the idea and shut up.
"Thank you. Mr. Weems, I have a job for you. Have you read about the Billy Martin case?"
"The kid who pounded his parents to death in their sleep? Yeah, I know a little about it."
"Very good. We— I would like you to post bail for the young man and get him out of jail."
"Post bail?" Weems asked, incredulous. "Do you know how much Judge Turner set bail for? Who in his right mind would go for that much loot to put that little pissant on the street again?"
"I would."
"Uh, you would?"