Chapter 61
“TO BEGIN AGAIN,” Mr. Thacker continued, “in cases such as yours, which are abjectly straightforward—due not to your guilt, but because of the enemies you have made—the prison allocates limited resources. Meaning—”
Josephine looked up. “Due not to my guilt? You’re saying you don’t think I’m guilty?”
His gaze skimmed hers, and he looked genuinely perplexed. “Miss Dunham, we know you are innocent.”
“We?”
He glanced at his watch. “I have twice communicated that our time is short. I must insist you allow me to continue uninterrupted.”
She found his manner beyond curious and his refusal to meet her gaze maddening, yet she nodded, clinging to We know you are innocent.
“To begin again . . . The prison allocates limited resources, meaning legal representation. Namely, me. They assign the least experienced—or those they perceive to be so. Yet, I have an inkling our meeting today has long been in the making.” He glanced at his watch again.
“To that end, I must share certain information. Some of it will seem superfluous until our conclusion, but some, I trust, you will find heartening. Yet whatever I say, you must appear displeased. As though my words are unwelcome. Do you understand?”
She didn’t, but nodded, desperate for hope.
“First, I knew your brother Todd. I—”
“W-what? How did you—”
“You are failing at this, Miss Dunham. Displeasure, please.”
She tried to frown, but knowing they shared memories of Todd made it impossible.
“Think of Clay Darden and what he did to you,” he said, voice low.
“And know that he did it not only to you, but to other women who were not as resourceful. There we go. That’s the anger we need to display for those watching.
And they are watching. Not only did I know your brother—” His words fired in rapid succession, as though his mind raced a dozen steps ahead.
“He was a remarkable mentor to me. I worked with him, and others, to uncover the corruption we discovered a few years ago in the prison system here. It’s still rampant, and not only among the freedmen, but among the women’s prison.
” He glanced at his watch again. “Not much time. The judge assigned to your case has formally denied bail, effectively convicting you before a trial date was even set. The judge based his denial mainly on pressure from Mayor Darden, of course. But also on the fact that you’re considered a flight risk.
Which, honestly, can you blame him?” His glance flickered to her face.
“Oh, nice flash of anger. You’ve caught on very well, Miss Dunham. ”
“Because I do not like being wrongly convicted, Mr. Thacker, and I don’t appreciate playing games with my freedom. Which is what this meeting is beginning to feel like.”
“I assure you, this is no game. The details simply do not make sense to you because you do not yet have all the facts. Now please, stay with me. What you need to know next is that Clay Darden who is now, indeed, dead—yes, we are aware, and thank you for whatever hand you had in that back in Lynchburg.” He grimaced. “Very poor choice of words on my part.”
Josephine stared. Clearly he’d meant no offense. This young man was obviously intelligent, yet his demeanor bordered on strange. But he was her appointed attorney. “No offense taken, Mr. Thacker. Now please, continue.”
“Miss Dunham, I will explain this plainly. Not because it is simple, but because confusion wastes time.” He lowered his voice. “There are three men who determine whether you leave this building today—or die in it.”
She stilled.
“The first is the judge. The second is Mayor Darden. The third is a group of men who do not wear titles and do not appear in court records. We will call them . . . the organization.”
“The organization?” she repeated softly.
“Yes. It is a group of men in this city affiliated with an Italian family and with deep ties to New York, New Orleans, and Chicago. Now, listen carefully. These men advanced a great deal of money to Clay Darden. When young Darden died, his obligations did not. They passed, as such things always do, to his father. Mayor Darden has refused to pay.”
“Because he believes himself untouchable,” she said.
Thacker nodded once. “Precisely. Power has a way of convincing men that rules apply only to others. This refusal makes Darden the enemy of this organization, and though they conduct their business quietly, they collect their debts unfailingly. And they never forgive.”
Her stomach tightened. “But . . . what does all this have to do with me?”
“I’m coming to that. They have decided Mayor Darden should be removed from office. Now they simply need to demonstrate he no longer commands control.”
She frowned.
“If a mayor cannot compel a judge,” he continued, “then he is not truly a mayor. He is merely a man occupying a chair.” He leaned forward slightly, intent sharpening his voice.
“By granting your bail—against Darden’s express wishes—the judge demonstrates that Darden’s reach has ended.
Quietly. Efficiently. Without spectacle. And that greatly weakens the mayor.”
“It will also enrage him.” She drew in a breath. “And the judge? What is his motivation in this?”
“The judge assigned to your case,” he continued, “is in debt to the same family—financially and morally. Enough that he cannot repay his debt without assistance. He requires relief. We provide it.”
“So I am—” She paused. “The instrument.”
Thacker considered this. “You are the occasion.”
“So the judge will be offered a bribe?” she whispered.
“A repayment disguised as one,” he clarified. “In exchange, he grants bail in your case—over the mayor’s objection.”
“And if I make bail,” she said slowly, “I’m released.”
“Temporarily. Long enough to disappear.”
Her head spun. “But the judge has already denied bail.”
“Which is why it must now be granted in a way that appears lawful.” He leaned forward. “The bail will be excessive. Five thousand dollars. High enough to satisfy public outrage—and wound Mayor Darden.”
“Five thousand dollars! I don’t have—”
“We know you don’t have those funds, Miss Dunham. However, it’s being gathered.” His eyes flicked past her. “Quietly. From people who remember your family with great admiration and gratitude. Someone who fights for another’s freedom isn’t soon forgotten. We have three thousand dollars thus far.”
Her throat closed.
“However, the bail amount of five thousand is not all that’s needed,” he continued. “An additional three thousand is required to settle the judge’s debt and satisfy the Italian interest.”
A cold wind blew through her. “Eight thousand dollars . . .” A staggering sum.
Dodge didn’t have that amount of money either, she felt sure.
And even if he had received the proceeds from the sale of his land—and assuming it brought that much—she could never expect him to just hand it over.
Mr. Daniel was wealthy, yes. But she doubted even he had that much in ready cash.
And if he did, again, she could never bring herself to ask.
“And if, by some miracle, Mr. Thacker, we gather that amount . . . What if the judge refuses the bribe? And refuses to set bail?”
“Then you will remain here until your trial,” he said evenly. “And you will not survive it.”
A shiver stole through her, and she rubbed her temples.
“So to be clear . . . Mayor Darden does not wish me to be freed, and usually, the judge would agree with him. But this judge is beholden to the organization, and the organization wishes to see the mayor weakened. And granting me bail accomplishes that while also paying off the judge’s debt. ”
“Well done, Miss Dunham! And what’s more, Mayor Darden will understand at once what has been done—and who has done it.”
“He’ll be publicly humiliated. And enraged.”
“Yes,” Thacker replied. “But he’ll also know that humiliation is the least of what he should fear. Because power is not lost when it is challenged. It is lost when it is ignored.”
She stared. “Are you and your colleagues in league with this organization?”
“In league? Certainly not. In contact with? Without question. That’s been essential in exposing the corruption. If you know the enemy and know yourself,” he quoted.
“You need not fear the result of a hundred battles,” she finished with him.
“Yes, Todd said you both enjoyed that book immensely. As did I.” He checked his watch a fourth time.
“Mr. Thacker, I—” She took a quick breath. “I want to understand. But who is this we you keep referring to?”
He looked past her, then down at the folder in front of him. “The judge has been offered the bribe, which stipulates that he must grant bail in your case. It took longer than hoped because he was on the bench this afternoon.”
“What? I—” Josephine shook her head. “But you said eight thousand dollars was required, which means we’re still five short.”
“Correct. At the start of this conversation, I told you I believed our meeting had been long in the making. I don’t say that lightly, Miss Dunham.
I am not a man inclined to abstractions.
I prefer facts, details, and patterns over figurative concepts.
Yet, considering the facts, I cannot deny that a power greater than ours seems to have intervened.
At noon today I was seated on the courthouse steps with a colleague discussing your situation.
Frankly, all seemed bleak. Because as of five o’clock today, the window closes for any reversal of denial of bail.
Then a man approached. A bondsman asking for the magistrate’s office.
He said he intended to post bond for a woman charged three days ago with attempted murder. Then he gave your name.”
Josephine leaned forward, the thinnest hope stirring, yet mindful someone could be watching.
“We explained to him that bail had not been granted—and likely would not be, given the upgraded murder charge. He still insisted he’d speak with the magistrate himself.
Five hundred dollars in cash, he told us, was too much to forfeit without knowing for sure.
Miss Dunham, I would wager you know this, but bondsmen generally charge—”
“Ten percent of the total bond for their services,” she finished. “Which means he’d be given five thousand dollars!” The words left her in a rush. “Did he say who had given him the money?”
“A bondsman secures future business by not revealing his clients.”
She nodded, the thin margin of her circumstances becoming razor sharp. “And you said the judge has been offered the bribe.”
“Only moments ago. So now, we wait.”
She attempted to read the watch on the table but couldn’t see the face clearly.
“It’s a quarter to five, Miss Dunham.”
“Will that be enough time?”
He looked past her again, and she turned to see the matron who had escorted her here walking in their direction.
He stood and picked up his watch and folder. “I’m afraid our meeting has come to an end, Miss Dunham.”
“No, no,” she whispered, reaching out to him. “Please.”
“I do apologize for relaying so much information in such haste. I had hoped we would have more time. As it is, we will likely not see each other again. So let me—”
“You won’t be my trial attorney? W-what if I request you. Can I do that?”
The matron paused beside her. “Come with me, Miss Dunham.”
“Wait, please!” Josephine held up a hand. “If I request you, Mr. Thacker—”
The matron gripped her upper arm, as desperation gripped her by the throat.
“Great change requires great sacrifice, Miss Dunham,” he said, rummaging through his satchel, never looking up.
“If you and I meet again, it will mean we have failed. This is your only chance to vanish. If Darden, or anyone still loyal to him, finds you, there will be no more options. And the money, regardless of its source, will have been spent in vain. So make the most of this opportunity. It will not come again.”