CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The television was on in his gourmet kitchen inside his downtown condo as he poured himself a cup of coffee. The weatherman was on, predicting late afternoon thunderstorms, and the female anchor was joking with him. Giorgio was drinking his coffee and watching her as the camera kept panning over to a full view of her body, as if the cameraman wanted to make sure the viewers knew how fine she was. And how hot she was. Giorgio slept with her a few months back. He was unimpressed. She wasn't that hot.

"And in other news," the male anchor began talking, "a joint task force of NYPD and the Newark Police Department initiated several raids this morning on what authorities are calling a sophisticated stolen goods ring."

A video came on of Kirby, Vivian, and Roger (with Roger's head covered with a shirt) being led out in handcuffs down the steps.

"The leader of the gang, Kirby Drayton, was arrested this morning at his girlfriend's apartment in Newark. His girlfriend, Vivian Ellis, and her minor brother, were also arrested."

Giorgio, astonished, sat his cup down when they said her name and he saw her face. She looked so anguished and disoriented that it broke his heart. And he knew whatever it was, it was bullshit. He knew it.

"Don't arrest my baby brother," she was heard crying and pleading with those cops. "He didn't do anything. Please listen to me! It was me. Don't lock up my baby brother. It was me!"

But the Police put a hand over the top of her head and put her into the squad car. "It was me," she cried again as they slammed the door shut.

Giorgio grabbed the remote and paused it, backed it up, and then paused it again as he stared at her frantic face. He zoomed in on that face. Had it been anybody else and he would have immediately said figures , turned off the TV, and went on about his business. His disappointment only slightly more than his suspicion that nobody was good, nobody was right. But he couldn't do that to her.

She was a principled person. A person with morals and values and who knew how to treat people right. She was a woman that would forget about her own safety, to comfort a dying woman. She was no thief. That he knew.

The front door of his condo opened, and Frank Kabecky peeped in. A husky black man in a Janardi suit, he not only was Giorgio's longtime bodyguard, but Rhonda's husband who just happened to be eight years her junior. They'd been married ten years. "The car has arrived, Boss."

Giorgio said nothing, which Frank was used to. But Giorgio did turn off the TV, pour his remaining coffee down the drain, and then he left.

But when he and Frank got in the backseat of the limo that was waiting in front of the condominium high-rise, and his driver drove him away, he was still thinking about Vivian. And that look on her devastated face. And the fact that she was more worried about her brother than about herself. Even he could see that she wasn't caught up in that mess and was only protecting her brother by foolishly proclaiming her guilt. But they took her away anyway. And would probably give her serious prison time. That was how they did people like her.

But that wasn't his problem. It was a systemic problem in every corner of the world. As long as he didn't allow his companies to participate in that racism crap, he figured he was doing his part.

But by the time they arrived at City Hall where he was set to attend a presentation, it felt like it wasn't enough. Not in her case. Not nearly enough. Which confounded him.

But when his chauffeur got out and was waiting for the signal to open the door, Giorgio looked over at Frank. "Contact Theo."

"Your attorney, sir?"

"Tell him a Vivian Ellis was arrested in Newark this morning as a part of some stolen-goods-ring-joint-task-force bullshit. Tell him to represent her."

Frank found it odd, but his longevity was in the fact that he never questioned the boss, or second-guessed him. Although his wife Rhonda always did. "Yes, sir."

Then Giorgio gave the signal and his driver opened his door. He was about to get out, but he realized she would still try to take the fall for her brother. "Tell him to represent her younger brother too. I don't know his name."

"Yes, sir."

"And Frank?"

"Sir?"

"Tell Theo I want him representing both of them. Not any of his associates. Him."

Frank nodded, even though he was now stunned. Why would the boss help somebody like that? And want his lead attorney, one of the highest paid lawyers in the country, to represent her and her brother? Not that he considered his boss a bad man. He knew there was more to Giorgio Janardi than how he presented himself to the world. But he never helped anybody. Not ever! "Yes, sir," Frank said.

And Giorgio got out, buttoned his Janardi suit coat, and made his way to the entrance into city hall.