Fat Tuesday(6)

Many of the guests were infamous for their association with scandal, crime, or combinations thereof. Some were rumored to belong to the Metropolitan Crime Commission, but since the membership of that by-invitation-only group of blue bloods was secret, no one could be sure. The group's unlimited funds were exceeded only by their unlimited power.

Some of the guests were politicos who wielded self-serving influence over voters. There were movers and shakers among the nouveaux riches, while others hailed from established, old-monied families who exercised despotic control over local society. A few had connections with organized crime. All were Pinkie's friends, associates, and former clients. All had come to pay him homage Remy endured the fawning of her husband's guests for the same reason they fawned over her to remain in his good graces. The new pendant was admired and envied, and, to Remy's embarrassment, so was the chest on which it reposed. She was reluctant to be the center of so much attention, and hated being ogled by sly men whose sly wives scrutinized her with barely concealed disdain and jealousy.

Seemingly unaware of their insincerity, Pinkie put her on display like a living trophy. Remy sensed that behind their phony smiles, his friends were inspecting her for the first signs of tarnishing and asking themselves, Who would have thought such an unlikely pairing would have lasted this long?

Eventually the conversation turned to the trial and she was asked her opinion of the verdict."Pinkie gives one hundred percent to every trial," she replied."I wasn't in the least surprised that his client was acquitted."

"But you must admit, my dear, that this one was easy to predict."

The remark was tinged with condescension and came from a society maven whose turkey-wattle neck dripped diamonds.

Pinkie spoke for Remy, countering the woman's comment."The outcome of a trial is never predictable. This one could just as easily have gone the other way. Anytime you get a policeman on the witness stand, you'd better be on your toes."

"Please, Pinkie," one of the men in the group scoffed."A policeman's credibility in the courtroom was destroyed forever when Mark Fuhrrnan testified at the O. J. Simpson trial."

Pinkie shook his head in disagreement."Granted, Fuhrman did that prosecution more hamm than good. But Burke Basile is a different animal altogether. We searched his past for something that would discredit him.

His record was impeccable."

"Until the night he shot his own man," one of the guests chortled.

He whacked Pinkie on the shoulder."You really raked him over the coals on the witness stand."

"Too bad the judge refused to let the trial be televised," another guest remarked."The public would have seen live coverage of cop meltdown." Another said, "It wouldn't have surprised me if the jury had stopped the trial during Basile's testimony and asked if they couldn't close up shop and go home right then."

"We're talking about a man's death," Remy blurted. She considered their joking and laughter obscene."Regardless of the outcome of the trial, Mr. Stuart would not have been shot if Bardo hadn't used him as a human shield. Isn't that right?"

The laughter died a sudden death and all eyes turned to her.

"Technically, my dear, that's precisely right," Pinkie replied.

"We acknowledged in court that Mr. Bardo was holding the wounded officer against him when he was shot, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that Stuart was being used as a shield. What happened was a tragic accident, but that doesn't warrant sending an innocent man to prison."

Remy had never been invited to attend a trial and see Pinkie in action, but she was well acquainted with the facts of this case because she'd followed the media coverage. Narcotics officers Stuart and Basile had been the first of their unit to arrive at a warehouse where it was suspected that drugs were being manufactured and distributed.

Those inside the warehouse had been alerted that a raid was imminent.

When Stuart and Basile approached the building, they were fired upon.

Without waiting for backup, Stuart had charged into the warehouse, exchanging gunfire with and killing a man named Toot Jenkins.

Toot Jenkins lay dead, Stuart was badly wounded. His bullet-proof vest had deflected potentially fatal shots, but he'd been hit in the thigh, the bullet narrowly missing his femoral artery. Another bullet had shattered his ulna.

"The doctor testified at trial that Stuart was probably in shock, but that he would have recovered from those wounds," Remy said."They were serious, but not life threatening."

"But your husband destroyed the doctor's credibility."

Pinkie held up a hand as though to say that he didn't need anyone to come to his rescue, particularly since the one challenging him was his own wife."Put yourself in Mr. Bardo's place, darling," he said.

"One man lay dead, another was wounded and bleeding. Mr. Bardo reasoned correctly that he had inadvertently walked into a very dangerous situation.

"He thought that perhaps the men outside weren't police officers as they claimed, but were in fact Mr. Jenkins's business rivals impersonating officers. Toot Jenkins had been dealing with an Asian gang.

These gang members can be extremely clever, you know " "Officer Stuart was red-haired and freckled. He could hardiy be mistaken for an Asian." One of the guests chuckled and said, "Touche, Pinkie. Too bad for the D.A. Remy wasn't arguing his case."