Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

On the night before the Academy Awards, Charlie Webb had many more than one too many at the Buccaneer Tavern, the hangout favored by his friends in the Barbarians motorcycle club.

Barbarians Bob Malone and Gary Schwartz drove the partially comatose attorney to his apartment house, a four-story brick building just off Northwest Nineteenth Avenue. Charlie’s apartment was on the third floor, and the building did not have an elevator. Fortunately, Bob and Gary were huge, and they got Charlie up the stairs and tucked into bed without much trouble.

Charlie’s apartment was very small. When he came home from work, he entered a short, narrow hall where a clothing rack and four large Tupperware containers filled with underwear, shirts, and other garments passed for a clothes closet. At the end of the hall was a bathroom that was just big enough for a narrow stall shower, a toilet, and a sink. Next to the bathroom was an L-shaped area. The section to the right of the bathroom was occupied by a sofa that sat across from a low table on which Charlie’s television balanced. This area doubled as a bedroom when Charlie opened his sofa bed.

The apartment’s only window did not add much light to the other section of the L. It looked out on the back wall of the apartment house next door and was covered with grime. A microwave sat on top of a small, squat refrigerator directly below the window and kitty-corner from a tiny sink. Charlie dined at a yellow Formica-topped table that stood in the shallow area in front of the sink.

Charlie fantasized that someday he would make enough money to buy a grand condo where he could hold wild parties, though who would attend these gatherings was a mystery, since his only close friends were left over from high school and Charlie had no steady girlfriend.

Charlie liked girls, and he was able to get dates since he was nice-looking and solid, but he was also boring, and the relationships didn’t last. Sadly, more than one girl had broken his heart, because he always fell head over heels for someone who showed him any degree of affection.

When Charlie slipped out of sleep and into the real world on Sunday morning, his eyelids rose in slow motion and he struggled to focus. He managed to tilt his head so he could see the bright red digital readout on the clock on his nightstand. It was 10:05.

After staring at the ceiling for several minutes, Charlie sat up and was rewarded for his effort by the gift of a very painful bolt of lightning that ricocheted through the inside of his skull. He waited for the pain to subside. Then he staggered into the bathroom and let an ice-cold shower shock him awake. After he dressed, he managed to ingest half a bagel and a cup of instant black coffee. Then he checked the time to see how much longer he would have to wait until the Oscars were on.

Charlie went to the movies a lot. His friends in the motorcycle gang liked movies with a lot of car chases and gunfights, like The Fast and the Furious franchise. Charlie liked them too, but he also went to films with intellectual content. When the Academy Awards were handed out, he hunkered down and rooted for his favorites.

At three, he got a beer, a bag of blue corn tortilla chips, and a jar of mild salsa and turned on the E! network to watch the celebrities being interviewed as they arrived on the red carpet. Mandy Cole’s interview with Meryl Streep had just ended when a handsome, tuxedo-clad gentleman with professionally coifed white hair and a perfect tan got out of a limousine. He reached down and extended a hand to a beautiful blonde in a tight red dress, who was wearing a diamond necklace and matching earrings that Charlie could never afford to buy.

“I see Leon Golden, who produced Amazon , headed our way,” Mandy Cole said.

“Hi, Leon,” Cole said when Golden reached her. “Am I correct when I say that this is the first time you’ve received an Oscar nomination?”

“It is, and we’re pretty excited.”

Charlie had seen the movie, which was a critically acclaimed feature about a couple who try to save their marriage by taking a wildlife cruise to a remote part of the Amazon jungle. Charlie had enjoyed the movie, but he didn’t think that it should win the Oscar.

“Who is your companion, Leon?” the interviewer asked.

“Gretchen Hall, a dear friend.”

Just as the interviewer was about to ask another question, two men and a woman walked down the red carpet dressed in wind breakers with the letters POLICE stenciled on them. Standing at the curb where the red carpet began were more officers. The woman held up a badge.

“Sorry to interrupt your interview, Miss Cole,” the woman officer said, “but we’re here to arrest Mr. Golden and Miss Hall on charges of running a sex ring that trafficked underage girls.”

Hall looked sick, and Golden’s tan lost a few shades.

“What are you talking about?” Golden demanded.

“Mr. Golden and Miss Hall, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney to represent you. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you at no expense.”

“You’re damn right I have attorneys, and they’ll be suing your ass for this outrageous miscarriage of justice!” Golden yelled.

The officer seemed unaffected by the producer’s outburst.

“Do you understand your rights?” she asked.

“Go fuck yourself!” Golden shouted.

Hall laid a hand on Golden’s forearm. “Calm down, Leon. Everything you’re saying is on TV.”

“Holy shit!” Charlie said as the officers led Hall and Golden away.