Crime & Punishment Pt. 04

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The conclusion: One man's rise is another's fall.
15.4k words
4.5
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Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 04/22/2014
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RichardGerald
RichardGerald
2,870 Followers

I hope you can forgive me for the length of time this has taken, but I am new to this and envisioned the story as much smaller. However, it seemed to take on a life of its own, as did the characters. I would like to thank tchr for the editing which went well beyond just fixing my truly terrible punctuation. I had to make major changes to the text after his last edit to fix the story problems he found so you will find some punctuation mistakes, but the story is easier to understand.

*****

The Hudson River flowed majestically toward New York Harbor. The view from the tall west side office building's 44th floor was breathtaking as Edward Kincade, Governor of New York, looked out his office widow and considered the ancient waterway. The Hudson was shaped by the glacial melt-off over ten-thousand years before. As a river, it was more a finger of the ocean. The ocean tide reached north as far as and sometimes farther than Poughkeepsie, a city midway up the river valley. Now with the rise of sea level the ocean and river threatened the lives and welfare of the millions who lived and worked in the great city below the Governor's office. Kincade had envisioned himself as the savior of his city, but as always his reach exceeded his grasp.

On this Sunday he was in his office attended by the four most powerful men in state government. The Speaker of the State Assembly, the Majority Leader of the State Senate, the Attorney General and the verbose and pompous Harvey Millhouse, Chief Judge of the New York Court of Appeals, the oddly named highest state judicial body. The topic that brought these powerful men together was the latest fuck up.

Harvey was explaining in his most boring fashion why the Court could not state in advance that the particular piece of legislation was unconstitutional, in other words why he would not stick his neck out to save the party and in particular the Governor from looking both foolish and hypocritical. The Governor had taken Harvey's class on torts at Harvard and he had been just as boring there, if somewhat more useful.

"Ok Harvey we get it. We're 'hoisted on our own petard' and you're not going to help us get down," Speaker Stanley Schwartz said.

"Well I just can't," Harvey responded.

"It's all my fault," Paul Devenback, Senate Majority Leader said.

"Stop beating yourself up Paulie these things happen. The Republicans have been in charge so long in your house that you guys are out of practice," the Speaker said.

For years the Republicans held a slim majority in the state senate under a deal that allowed the upper house to be gerrymandered Republican while the lower house was gerrymandered Democrat. It mattered not which party the votes favored in any particular election. The parties found mutual benefit in their deal which assured power in at least one house of government to each party no matter how the voters were inclined.

When State Senator Mark Hoffman brought his wife of twenty-seven years to the Mercy General emergency room one night, beaten and bleeding, she claimed to have fallen down the stairs. The hospital personnel did not believe her and reported the abuse. Nothing happened! The DA was the Senator's brother.

The Republican State Senate had passed a special bill to appoint an independent prosecutor to investigate the incident. Hoffman was in fact one of the few upstate democrats in the state senate. The Assembly responded under the shrew leadership of Stanley Schwartz, veteran of some of the bitterest and dirtiest battles in Brooklyn Clubhouse politics.

The Assembly Bill called for the appointment of a special prosecutor to investigate state elected officials, a Corruption Czar. You would have to be a fool to vote for such a bill. Therefore, each house had passed a bill. The Democrat Assembly could say they passed a bill to investigate and the Republicans refused to sign it. The Republicans could claim the Democrat bill was a sham. Everything was fine until Sherry Smith finally succumbed to breast cancer.

In Stanley's view Sherry was a great dame. She was a Republican, but he always got along with the overweight black woman who he kidded about her weight and who gave it right back to him. She was good on women's issues and minority rights, but incredibly conservative. She held a gerrymandered district in Buffalo by force of personality. It should have swung the other way but she wouldn't let it. She fought the cancer just as hard, but lost.

Then there was that prick Pleasly, Franklin (not frank) Pleasly was a self-righteous SOB who got elected solely on holding the most heavily Republican seat in either house. He died in a whorehouse of a heart attack although that location was never reported in the press. His death meant two special elections. But no sweat the most the Republicans could lose was one.

Taking no chances, a conservative Christian mother of three boys was nominated to succeed Pleasly. She was early forties, slim, brunette, and attractively put together. No raving beauty, but very good looking and articulate. The pundits said Sara Monk, the wife of Dr. Monk an oral surgeon, couldn't lose. Unfortunately she did.

Sara was a stay at home mom who had backed conservative causes both financially with her husband's money and by being a dedicated campaign volunteer. She had been elected to the local school board and the town council. It was in this last job that she met a much younger attorney and began a brief liaison. It was minor and was over, but unfortunately in the age of cellular phones and selfies the pictures still existed.

Three days before the special election Sara Monk's nude and suggestive photos were all over the net. The scandal broke too close to the election for damage control, and the last shoe to drop was the boyfriend's ex-wife saying that Sara was the cause of the divorce. In a less conservative district it might not have mattered so much.

The democrats were ecstatic when they took control of the State Senate. This lasted one whole day. The outgoing majority leader brought the assembly's version of the special counsel bill to the floor and then sat down. If Paul Devenback had been more experienced he could have held his side together and thumbed his nose at the opposition, but he wasn't.

The radical left on his side of the chamber knew what they wanted: payback. What better way to get it than pass a radical reform bill. The best Paul could do was amending the bill to limit the term to five years. So there it was a bill no sane politician wanted sitting waiting for the Governor's signature. A bill he had endorsed when he was sure it would not pass.

The last man in the room was Sydney (Sid) Levy, the Attorney General, in New York an elected position. How Sid, the most honest and caring man that the others had ever known, was even nominated was a mystery, but here he sat with four political sharks. Sid was thirty five, the father of six, and husband of Ruth, an orthodox Jewish woman who believed in her faith to the exclusion of everything except her family. The meeting was on Sunday because the day before had been the Sabbath. Sid would have come the day before, but the others knew what a price Ruth would make him pay.

"Well, Attorney General any advice?" the Governor asked.

Sid had been dreading this moment. He was uncomfortable with these men at the best of times. Now he was asked to give an opinion that he believed they could not agree with.

"Well the bill has certain deficiencies which could be corrected by the right appointment:

1.It is too general; it does not give a clear mandate, which means you need a strong person to fill the position.

2.There is no money appropriated which means until the next budget or the supplemental if there is one, this person must operate without funds. I will of course provide what assistance I can for support, but I cannot hire personal for another agency. So you need someone who is innovative.

3.Finally you need someone independent, that the public will respect, but who will understand human frailty. Not someone holier than thou, but still-I don't know-I guess hero enough for the public to look up to.

My opinion is: If you have someone like that, sign the bill and appoint him or her, but if you can't find the right person, veto it and take the bad press."

Sydney finished his statement to a groan from the Majority Leader and the Judge clearing his throat. The Governor was oddly quiet. Then Stanley said, "Got someone like that in your back pocket Ed?"

The Governor looked down then turned back to the window watched the Hudson for a minute then picked up the phone.

"Betty get me Don Pleasant, Jr., not Sr.—Jr." He then turned back to the others and said, "Why don't we refill our coffee cups while we wait."

The Governor had placed his head of security's son into a position to keep him informed on Patrick Sullivan. Better safe than sorry. The moment he heard of the attack he had wondered. The more he learned, the surer he was that the situation needed to be carefully watched. His own involvement was minimal, and the situation was stable for now.

The phone buzzed and Betty said, "I have Don Jr. on the phone."

"Don, how is the family?" the Governor began.

"All good Governor, what can I do for you this fine Sunday afternoon?" Don replied.

"Well I was wondering about your patient."

"I've several, but I assume you mean Mr. Sullivan. He's on the mend, he'll never completely recover, but in a few months he should be eighty percent."

"How about now, can he work?"

"Well he is a lawyer, not very physically stressful, but it would be wise to wait."

"If I can't?" Edward asked in a way that said he wouldn't

"He should be alright and it could even help him mentally." Don knew he was rolling over, but you don't turn down a Governor unless you are absolutely sure, and he wasn't.

"Thanks Don, give my regards to your partner," Kincade said hanging up. The others mostly looked at him, but not Stanley.

"You sure of Sullivan, Governor?" the Speaker asked.

"Yes."

"Who's Sullivan? I've never heard of him," the Judge asked.

"Patrick Sullivan, former interim DA of Van Patten County, is everything our Attorney General wants including the hero part," said Governor Kincade.

"He's not Ivy League, Judge," said Stanley Schwartz of City College and sure the Judge looked down on him because of that.

In the end they all agreed, the Governor would sign the bill and then immediately appoint Patrick Sullivan. The Governor's only concern was one he did not express, he was sure that if that problem came up it would be taken care of. This was the big game now and small problems were eliminated.

*****

"Fuck Me-Fuck ME-Oh-Oh-Oh—Yes—I'm coming!" Linda Segal was hugging the oversized pillow on the king size bed in the Hilton Midtown, suite of Steven Fitzgerald. The Westchester County ADA had her head down and her ass sticking up as Steve fucked her from behind. In the last three days they had explored many positions, but this was her favorite.

The current session had started Sunday evening at a little after ten p.m. They had gone out to a fancy pizza restaurant where cracker thin pies were served. The food had been OK, the sex after was world class. In three days Steven had licked her, fucked her, and driven her wild. Right now he had slowed down; but not stopped. Her thigh had begun to vibrate again with another orgasm that did not quite quit.

"Please Steven no more, you win—I give up," she said.

Steven pulled out, slapping her on the rump, "Ok but I'm not done yet," he said.

Linda rolled over on her back. She had not had a lot of lovers. She was no slut. Steve was her fourth. He was not like what had come before. It was not slam bang thank you ma'am or try to pound you into the bed, hope you come before I do. He was oh so slow to start and lots of licking all the right places and then loving you crazy. In the end he had his cock zipping in and out of her pussy at a phenomenal rate.

"How do you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Last so long?" she said hitting him with the pillow.

"Can't tell you trade secrets," he said.

At that moment she looked over at the clock. "OMG it's after four," she said.

Hopping out of bed she made a dash for the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"It's four-seventeen Monday morning. I have Court at nine-thirty and I need to be at the office at eight."

"Why not call in sick," he shouted over the running shower.

"NO CAN DO!"

She was out of the shower, teeth brushed and climbing into her clothing in ten minutes.

"When will I see you again," he asked.

Lynda turned to him, placed her hand on his cheek.

"You know this is just sex—really great sex, but just sex," she said.

Taking her hand from his cheek, he kissed the palm of her hand.

"You sure there's nothing more Lin?" he asked.

"Oh Steve we've been together four times now. We must've fucked for the better part of eight days. I've had more sex with you than I did in a year long relationship with my last boyfriend. But if you don't count the shop talk about evidence, murder, guilt and innocence we haven't spoken a hundred words to each other. It's all sex," she said, sadness in her tone.

"Ok Mighty Mouse, I get it. Don't get serious," he said.

"Hey you know I hate that nick name, you trying to piss me off?"

Lynda was four foot nine, petite and exceedingly cute rather than beautiful. She weighed a good bit less than a hundred pounds and she keeps her long auburn hair up in a school teacher's bun most of the time. It was down now and she looked highly erotic. They called her Mighty Mouse because she was a human-dynamo and a highly aggressive trial lawyer.

To compensate for her height, she never wore heels less than six inches, a remarkable bit of endurance for a person whose life required running to and between courtrooms. But while it made her incredibly sexy and she charmed judges and opposing counsel, Steven had seen her shoes for what they were: the equivalent of a tell at a poker table. She was unsure of herself and the tough front she put on was surface thin concealing a soft interior.

Women lawyers he thought. They over compensate for every real and perceived flaw. They think they have to be sure, cool, and tough with so much effort expended in the appearance the substance has to be neglected. His best friend Pat Sullivan's wife was the perfect example of this on first appearance she was the picture of the self assured corporate attorney, but Steve knew better. Laura Sullivan was desperate to have people think the best of her. So greedy for success and approval that she was bound to fail. A weak woman married to a very strong man. Laura's husband was his friend—there could never be any question of that. They were brothers in all but blood. But and it was a big but Patrick was a wolf with a very dangerous bite and no real weakness except an over protective character.

Steve knew he was more calculating and far less empathic than his friend Pat and, therefore, stronger than Pat but he had a weakness actually lots of them. They came in all sizes, but only one sex and he was helpless to resist. Someday he knew his love of women would bring him down. He would meet that one who was truly strong and she would take him out. All his tricks and skills would be useless when faced with a sure strong woman. He feared no man, but he had this nagging feeling that out there was one person of the opposite sex he could not deceive, but who could deceive him.

Lynda was not that woman. When she first heard that Carolyn Wellesley, who was accused of killing her husband Arthur Hale Wellesley, had switched attorneys to some upstate whiz kid, she immediately set out to research the new opposing counsel. What Lynda learned made her more than leery.

Foxy Fitzgerald was exactly what his nick name implied, if the accounts were to be believed. She had no intention of underestimating him or giving him a shot at her back. He was untrustworthy and she was not about to be deceived. She had the home Court advantage and she used it well. The judge and the press were on her side and she took full advantage every chance she got. But near the end of the trial she began to sweat. He was just too good, she had expected tricks. What she got was a well laid out case for suicide. In the end the Jury either agreed with Foxy or could not disagree.

At first she took the acquittal hard. During the trial she had developed some physical attraction for her very pretty opposing counsel. How she wondered could a man be so pretty and still be straight. She decided to seduce him both to scratch the itch that had developed and to trap him into admitting the guilt of his client. The sex was great-he was something exceptional in bed. He had this incredible staying power and a very rapid recovery. However, when she used her feminine wiles to try to wheedle the truth from him she hit a very odd reaction.

Lynda was a sharp prosecutor, maybe not in Steven's league, but she could see the evasions he made. It was a little before they parted the morning after a wild night of sex that the gestalt hit.

"OMG! she was innocent," she said. The evidence adding up now that she saw what was being held back.

"If she had the note why didn't you use it?" But of course he didn't answer he couldn't. But she knew there was a note and it contained something the wife did not want anyone to know about her husband. Carolyn Wellesley protected her husband even after his death. This profoundly affected Lynda. The hard driving prosecutor had a big soft spot and Steven Fitzgerald knew it.

"Alright Lin I will not call you Might Mouse although you may call me Foxy, and you are right, I'm a lousy companion—I am introspective and boring because I am all about my work. I am shit as a husband and don't see if I would be any better as a father. So answer my question when can I see you again?" he said.

"How about next weekend at my place?" she said.

He gave her a kiss and they parted. Lynda on the long drive back to Westchester wondered about his wife. She was getting the crap end of this. She had the moody quiet husband, but not the great sex. Supposedly she had a boyfriend but that must be like eating beef jerky when you could have filet mignon. Well so much the better for me she thought.

*****

"He's fucking that midget," Susan said.

"Susan isn't that part of the deal in an open marriage?" Laura asked.

"Who said anything about an open marriage? Really Laura!" Susan said.

They were sitting in the Illium Café in Troy, an upscale sort of place that was good for lunch or breakfast. It was Thursday morning and they had feta cheese and spinach omelets in front of them. Laura was making a special effort to eat the fruit served with the omelets. Being five months pregnant she was trying to be good. It was not easy for her. She was sick a lot and extremely depressed.

"Susan when you step outside the lines you open yourself up," Laura said.

"Speak for yourself. I don't buy this tit-for-tat thing. For starters men can't keep up their end. Steven never had to go wanting for sex. The thing I want most after fucking someone else is to go to bed with Steven. I need his sweet loving after. Can he say the same?- No! No! No!-It's every weekend she has my man. I can't even enjoy being with Tony, all I can think about is what that tramp is doing with my husband."

"I'm sorry Susan, I just think you gave a man with the morals of an alley cat a big get out of jail free card," Laura said.

"What about the card you gave Pat?" Susan said.

"You think I don't worry. Since the Governor appointed him special prosecutor I've done nothing but worry.

"That AG office is loaded with female barracuda. And that secretary of his, the only way she could show more skin would be to walk into the office naked," Laura said before going on.

RichardGerald
RichardGerald
2,870 Followers