Riker
“Okay, I’ll be down,” I agreed over the phone.
I sighed heavily and rolled out of bed, reaching for my boots and pulling them on. I splashed some cold water on my face from the rusty sink and ran my fingers through my hair. It wasn’t a fancy occasion; in fact, I’d look out of place if I dressed any better.
Plodding up the courthouse steps, I smiled to myself as a pair of hookers came out the double doors, offering their services free of charge to me. This had become my world. By day I was a licensed plumber, electrician and general contractor. By night, I tried to save my little corner of the world. The cops in the precinct knew they could call me when they had a young one in trouble. I wouldn’t take anyone who was addicted to drugs or had committed a violent crime, though—I basically looked for those who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and needed a change of scenery.
I went inside and Sgt. Stephens motioned me with a jerk of his chin toward a small holding room. We went inside and there was a young black boy, about sixteen years old, sitting at the table with tears streaming down his face.
“Riker, meet Jonas. Jonas, this is Riker. He’s one tough mother, so don’t think you can get past him. Riker, I’m leaving him in your hands.”
Stephens left us and I pulled out a chair opposite the boy. “Want to tell me what happened?”
The boy said nothing but continued to cry. This kid was obviously a novice, and I wondered how he’d ended up there. “Tell me your story and I might be able to help you. Otherwise you’ll end up in a general cell, and I can’t vouch for the guys who will be your roommates.”
“He shot my brother.”
“Who did?”
“The old man who owned the liquor store. Evan wasn’t going to hurt him, he would never hurt anyone. The old man got spooked and pulled a shotgun on him.”
I’d heard similar stories a dozen times. Some young kid got caught up with a bad influence and started his life of crime at an early age. This was when I liked to get my hands on them, before they had become hard. I wasn’t always lucky and they weren’t always salvageable, but I always gave it a try. “You got folks?”
The boy shook his head. “No one but me and Evan; now just me.”
“That’s tough. I know, because I’m in the same place. So who else was involved in this?”
He looked at me with suspicion coloring his mocha eyes. He didn’t trust me, and I really couldn’t blame him. The way he grew up I doubted there was very much in life he could trust at all.
“Well, Jonas, is it?” The boy nodded in confirmation. “Let me give you a little picture of what’s going to happen here. If you keep your mouth shut, the judge can throw the book at you because somebody got killed. Doesn’t matter you didn’t pull the trigger, doesn’t matter it was your brother, it’s felony murder. Murder, understand? You’ll end up in juvenile hall for a couple of years until you turn eighteen and then you go into the big house, probably in Joliet. You don’t want to go to Joliet. Those are rough boys down there, and they’ll make you their bitch in no time flat. Let me guess, they left you out front to drive the car.”
Jonas looked up, surprise in his eyes, and I knew I was right. “Yep, that’s what I figured. How many others were there?”
“A couple.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t say anything and those couple of guys are going to walk away from this with the money they stole. They’ll get away with it and you’ll take the rap. If you’re lucky, you might get out in fifteen or twenty years, but by then you’ll feel more at home inside than out. You’ll probably end up being a lifer. And if even if the judge lets you go, those other two are coming back after you. You’re the only witness who can tie them to the crime. They’ll take you out before you can blink. Then there’s your other option. You can have a little talk with Sgt. Stephens out there and turn those guys in.”
“You stupid fuck, they’ll kill me.”
“That’s where I come in. I take stupid little fucks like you home with me and look after you. You’re going to have to go back to school, and you’ll have to do chores to pay for your room and board, but I’ll make sure they don’t find you. Once they’re locked up, you’re home free. The judge knows me. I’ve done this before for others. I’m tough and you’re not going to get anything past me, but I’m a whole lot better than Joliet. You think it over and I’ll be right outside that door. Just tap on the window when you’re ready to talk.”
I got up without looking at him and left the room. I heard the lock click behind me. I walked over to Stephens’s desk.
“Well?” he asked me.
“I do have the picture, but it’s up to him. He’s gonna rap on the window when he’s ready to talk.”
Right on cue, we heard the knocking on the window. Stephens looked at me from the corner of his eye. “You sure know ‘em.”
“That’s my job. I’ll hang around until you let me know that he talked. Then you hold him overnight and I’ll get the place ready for him tomorrow. That is, assuming the judge agrees in the morning.”
“He’ll agree,” Stephen said with a sigh. “He pretty much has no other choice.”
I nodded and watched as Stephens reentered the room. Jonas wiped his eyes as he began to blab. Stephens was taking notes, as was the recorder on the table. Stephens looked around at me at one point and nodded, and I knew it was okay to leave. I went back to my apartment and climbed between the covers, hoping to rescue at least a couple hours of sleep before I set out to help young Mr. Jonas.