Malone knows that he’s 100 percent fucked.
Berger asks, “Where is the U.S. attorney for the Southern District on this? It’s her signature on Detective Malone’s witness agreement.”
“Ms. Paz has been removed from the case,” Weintraub says.
“By whom?”
“Her boss,” Weintraub says. “That would be the attorney general of the United States.”
“May I ask why?”
“You may, but we have no obligation to answer,” Weintraub says.
“I’m aware of that.”
“Let’s say she had a conflict of interest,” Weintraub says, “and leave it at that. Ms. Paz is facing her own indictment, as might a number of people in and around City Hall.”
“I’d like a moment with my client.”
O’Dell says, “This isn’t your office, Counselor. We’re not going to be sent in and out like associates.”
“I believe that my conversation with my client would move our discussion forward,” Berger says. “I ask for your indulgence.”
When O’Dell and Weintraub step out, Berger says, “What do you know about Paz?”
Malone tells him about his conversations with Chandler, Anderson and Paz.
“Paz tried to sell your deal,” Berger says, “and they didn’t buy. She miscalculated.”
What Paz didn’t figure on, Berger explains, is that the administration in Washington wants the mayor’s political ambitions smothered in the crib and would relish a corruption scandal in New York. So when Paz pitched the deal to cover that up, Weintraub and O’Dell went Acela on her. She underestimated them.
“You played a strong card,” Berger says. “I must say I’m impressed. But it wasn’t strong enough.”
“Can you keep Savino’s tapes out on a Mapp hearing?” Malone asks.
“No,” Berger says.
“So I’m fucked.”
“Yes,” Berger says, “but there are relative degrees of fucked. They want your cooperation in bringing down the mayor’s administration, but it isn’t as valuable as it was now that they have Savino. Shall we find out what your potential testimony is worth on the market?”
He goes out and gets the two feds.
They sit down.
Berger begins, “My client is already a cooperating witness.”
“He was,” O’Dell says. “He subsequently confessed to crimes he didn’t disclose in the original agreement, so his violation of the full disclosure clause nullifies the agreement.”
“So what?” Berger asks. “He is now willing to testify to those previously undisclosed crimes. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? We’re entertaining offers, gentlemen.”
“Fuck you,” Weintraub says. “We have Savino for that.”
“We could make a deal on the other things,” O’Dell says. “The bribery, the case fixing. We can’t make a deal on a dirty cop putting fifty kilos of heroin out on the street.”
“You knew I was doing drug rips,” Malone says.
“Shut up, Dennis,” Berger says.
“No, fuck these sanctimonious assholes,” Malone says. “Fuck all of you. You want to talk about my crimes, what I’ve done? Let’s talk about what you’ve done. You’re as dirty as I am.”
O’Dell explodes. Stands up and slams the table. “This shit has to end! I will not allow—do you hear me, I will not allow police officers to become gangs of bandits robbing drug dealers and then slinging dope on the streets! I’m ending it! And if that means I have to fall on my own sword, then that’s what it means.”
“Concur,” Weintraub says. “Sit down, O’Dell, before you have a coronary.”
O’Dell sits down. His face is red and his hands are shaking. “We have one deal to offer you.”
“We’re listening,” Berger says.
“The days of you dictating who you give up, who you won’t, who you hurt, who you protect are over,” O’Dell says. “We want it all now. Everything on every cop. McGivern, the Task Force and, yes, Malone, I want your partners—Russo and Montague.”
“They don’t have—”
“Don’t give me that shit,” O’Dell says. “Your partners were there on the Pena bust. They won medals for it. They were in on it, and don’t tell me that they didn’t know you took those fifty keys and don’t try to tell me they didn’t take money from the sale.”
“That’s right,” Weintraub says. “Keep your mouth shut. Get thirty to life.”
“That’s up to a judge and a jury,” Berger says. “We will take this to trial and we will win.”
No, Malone thinks.
O’Dell’s right. It’s over. This has to end.
I go to prison.
Russo takes care of my family.
It ain’t a great deal, but it ain’t such a bad one either.
Anyway, it’s the deal I have.
He says, “I’m done. No more talking, no more negotiating, no more deals. Do what you’re going to do.”
“Did you call me so you could be your own attorney?” Berger asks. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Malone leans across the table at O’Dell. “I told you, day one, I would never hurt my partners. I can do time.”
“You probably can,” Weintraub says. “But can Sheila?”
“What?”
“Can your wife do the time?” Weintraub asks. “She could get ten to twelve years.”
“For what?!” Malone says.
“Can Sheila justify her income?” Weintraub asks. “When we turn the IRS auditors on her, can she justify her spending? Credit card payments she couldn’t make unless she had a hidden source of income? We go in your house, are we going to find envelopes of cash?”
Malone looks at Berger. “Can they do this?”
“I’m afraid they can, yes.”
“Think about your kids,” O’Dell says. “They’re going to have both parents in jail. And no home, Denny, because you have as much as a rain gutter you can’t justify from your salary we’ll take the house from you in civil forfeiture. The house, the cars, your savings account and Denny, look me in the eye, I’ll take your kids’ toys.”
Weintraub says, “You have the dope money stashed away somewhere for your family, forget about it. What we don’t take, your lawyer here will. You’ll spend every penny on defense costs and fines. When you come out, if you come out, you’ll be an old man without a penny to his name and adult children who don’t know who he is except he’s the guy that got their mother sent to the joint.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“From Lompoc?” Weintraub asks. “Victorville? Florence? Because that’s where you’ll be, in a federal max on the other side of the country. You’ll never see your kids, and your wife will be in Danbury with the diesels and the bull dykes.”
“Who’s going to raise your kids?” O’Dell asks. “I know the Russos are their guardians, but how’s Uncle Phil going to feel about bringing up a rat’s kids? Especially when you have no money to contribute. Is he going to put nice clothes on their backs, send them to college? Spend money taking them to visit their mom in prison?”
Weintraub says, “Russo’s a cheap prick. Won’t even buy a new overcoat.”
“How can I do that to their families?” Malone asks.
“Are you telling us you love their kids more than your own?” O’Dell asks. “You love their wives more than yours?”