It pisses me off.” Skeeter threw his gym bag at the side of his silver Mercedes in the night-shadowed gym parking lot. “You blew past me like I’m the kid who gets sand kicked in his face.”
“Don’t take it so hard,” Gage said. “You’re ten years older than I am.”
Skeeter shook his head. “Well, at least I’m better-looking.”
Gage laughed. “We both know that’s not true.”
“Well, maybe once.”
“Okay, you can have that.”
Skeeter popped open his trunk and tossed the bag in. The glow of the neon sign of the auto repair shop next door revealed a sober expression when he returned to stand next to Gage.
“I’m not sure there’s any way to reopen the Porzolkiewski case,” Skeeter said. “I’ll have some associates do the research and let you know.” He slammed a fist into his palm and his voice hardened. “I knew Hawkins lied in his deposition, I just couldn’t prove it, and I suspected Charlie Palmer had something to do with getting him out of the country.”
“Why didn’t you ask me to find out?”
Skeeter threw up his hands. “Don’t you think I wanted to? Almost every time I’ve called in the last twenty years, you’ve been between nine and fifteen time zones away. And that’s probably what happened back then.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s my frustration. But I’ll tell you this
… if I could connect the dots all the way to Brandon, I’d get his ass impeached.”
“Don’t we both wish.”
Skeeter leaned back against his car. “I’ve been thinking about your talk with Wilbert Hawkins. What’s he been living on?”
“A flat million-dollar payoff. It’ll last ten lifetimes in India.”
“What about his wife? Is she getting some of it?”
“Nope. He signed over his retirement to her. He only had nineteen years in, but he was vested and she lives cheap. Just beer and McDonald’s.”
“Any way to link the million to TIMCO?”
“Hawkins said the money went through a Caribbean account. Even if he could’ve remembered the name and the island, we’d never get the records, but we’re going through Charlie’s computer and all his files, not just for that but, for anything suspicious.”
“That links to Brandon?”
“He’s just one of the names. Charlie left lots enemies behind.”
Gage joined Skeeter in leaning against the car, then folded his arms across his chest.
“Let me try something out on you,” Gage said.
“Shoot.”
“Just between us.”
Skeeter nodded.
“Everybody seems to agree that some of Brandon’s rulings are bizarre, but they’re always solid enough to withstand appeal.”
“He’s a master of making a record that boxes in the Ninth Circuit,” Skeeter said. “His main trick is to make uncontestable factual findings that force appeals court judges to frame the issues exactly the way he wants them to. But his so-called facts of the case are usually pure fantasy. Fan-ta-sy… that asshole.”
Gage looked over at Skeeter. “You ever wonder if Brandon is taking payoffs?”
Skeeter whistled. “That’s heavy.”
“I know.”
“You mean through Marc Anston?”
“He’s the attorney of choice for nearly every company that either gets sued or criminally charged in Brandon’s court. An inflated fee, then a wink and a nod and the money ends up in Brandon’s bank account.”
“Sure would explain a lot,” Skeeter said. “But really hard to prove. Maybe impossible.”
“You have a couple of associates you can trust with something like this?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“We’re putting together a list of all of the companies that have appeared in Brandon’s court. Maybe your people can analyze Brandon’s rulings in those cases and can detect a pattern.”
“I’ve got a couple of kids who can do it, but…” Skeeter raised his eyebrows.
“But you’re wondering if they’ll end up like Shakir.”
“Yeah, I heard about what happened. How’s he doing?”
“He’ll be out of the hospital in a couple of days. I wouldn’t worry about your associates. The guys who went after Shakir were after something secret, not something anybody can find in a court file-”
“But only if they knew what they were looking for.”
“Right. If they knew what they were looking for.”