CHAPTER XXVIII

11:05

Branson stood inside a corner opposite and watching the 28th Precinct as Kingson went inside. After disembarking from the Tram, they took an Uber Kingson knew from the area uptown. While on their way, Branson was privy to some of the calls his twin made, impressed that Kingson knew so many people. Kingson had a hunch that a certain lieutenant detective who had been on his radar for a few years now and on whom he had been keeping tabs for some time was the one responsible for this move on Get Right. It smelled like a dirty cop.

Kingson saw whom he believed to be Imani and Katrina through a second set of glass doors, sitting on some small waiting chairs just inside the precinct proper. He climbed a short flight of stairs before entering the actual precinct itself. The girls stood up as he came in and hugged him tight.

"Well," Kingson began. "I do appreciate hugs from such fine ladies but not under false auspices."

They looked baffled. "I'm his twin, the lawyer." He shook their hands. "Pleasure to-" He peered at the girls closely again and a memory came to him. The evening of the day he was able to have Get Right's earlier case dismissed, Get Right had approached these two friends walking and had managed, somehow, to charm both of them into becoming his women. "I remember y'all. That night, the first night Get Right got up with y'all, I was the one he was talking to, near the truck, on forty fourth between Adam Clayton and St. Nick." It was almost one week ago.

Their eyes widened. They remembered the day but that evening was a blur as far as remembering Kingson. All they remembered was Get Right coming from behind as they walked down the avenue.

"In any case, it's still a pleasure. Give me a few minutes, please." Imani nodded while Katrina smirked, both still amazed that Branson really did have a twin.

The ladies sat back down as Kingson presented himself to the OIC, who happened to be a captain, which wasn't usual but it wasn't too abnormal either. Normally, sergeants were OIC's. Kingson didn't care either way.

"Good morning, captain," Kingson began. The man, sitting on a raised podium behind a partition where all visitors to the precinct were to present themselves, nodded and crossed his arms. When people crossed thair arms before or during conversations, psychologically speaking, they were preparing for a battle. "I believe you have one of my clients in custody, Mr. Jeffery Deaver?" The captain's surly mien soured further but he nodded again. "Well, I've come to have him released, sir." The captain smiled at that.

"Sorry you came all this way for nothing but Mr. Deaver's not going anywhere, Mr. Jackson."

"Oh, I'm certain he is. If not from here, then from the Tombs. If not from there, surely from Court. The real question, captain, is whether or not you want to also be sued for dereliction of duty and an illegal arrest and unlawful detainment?" Some officers and detectives came out of adjacent offices to see what the issue was about. A few tried to interject on behalf of the captain.

Kingson answered them not one word.

"Captain, you will please provide for me a copy of the arrest warrant for my client." The captain visibly froze, appearing concerned as the furrow between his brow became a virtual ditch. For some strange reason, a heavy silence, save for the omnipresent radio communications, descended inside the precinct.

Aha! Kingson thought. So there was something wrong with the arrest warrant.

The captain picked up his desk phone and asked for Lieutenant Detective Williams. A few seconds afterward, he began speaking in more whispered tones, likely to said individual. After a few seconds he hanged up the phone.

"Lieutenant Detective Williams will see you in his office... sir," said the captain, indicating to his right, towards where Katrina and Imani were sitting. There was an open office door before where they sat and Kingson thanked the captain before making his way therein. Inside the office were five desks, one a few feet in front and a little left of the doorway, two others behind this one but facing two others to the right, opposite one another a couple of meters. A few of the stations were occupied by whom Kingson assumed to be other detectives.

A small plaque on the closest desk read "Williams," but Kingson already knew who he was by face and he sat down whom he knew to be a crooked cop.

And Williams knew that he knew.

"Please, do have a seat," Lieutenant Detective Williams said drily, as Kingson had already sat down before the proffered politeness. Kingson opened his folders and presented some paperwork to the lieutenant detective, proving he was a lawyer licensed to practice in the Tri-State area.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Detective Williams. I won't take up too much of your time. I'm Mr. Deaver's lawyer on the record and I've come to request that he be released." The other two detectives in the room raised their heads from their computers. All three will still in riot gear, likely how they had gone to arrest Get Right. Lieutenant Detective Williams could be thoughtful, especially when it came to his own well-being. Deaver's lawyer had been alerted and had gotten to the precinct fast.

"While we're at it, according to penal law..." Kingson stated a number of laws, local and State, that applied to the arrest and detainment of persons suspected of having committed a crime.

"Why do you want a copy of the arrest warrant?"

"So that I can present it to some of your supervisors at Central Command, as well as the CO of this precinct, when I ask them to suspend you for deliberate dereliction of duty."

"Do you know why your client was arrested, Mr. Jackson?"

"With all due respect, sir, I don't care why he was arrested but that he was arrested!" Just then a darkish Hispanic looking lady came into the room and went to show the lieutenant detective some printouts. They whispered with each other for a little while. Finally, the lady said something forcefully, pointing to the printouts. she then stood by his desk as he splayed his hands on the table, palms downwards, and bowed his head.

"Apparently, Mr. Jackson, you seem to have friends in high places," Lieutenant Detective Williams stated, handing Kingson a printout from Central Command ordering the release of one Jeffery Deaver, recently arrested on a dubiously obtained warrant that purported utility of an APB in relation to the location of Mr. Deaver's SUV & not Mr. Deaver's person. Furthermore, Mr. Deaver's apartment was not to have been searched, nor was his vehicle, nor were any of the apartment's inhabitants or visitors at the time of his unlawful imprisonment." Kingson had called in a favor from a childhood friend At Central Command and would send the guy a little something later on as compensation for this.

"Lieutenant Detective Williams, it's not that I have friends in high places. It's because you're so predictable." The other detectives were paying attention to the conversation now and the lieutenant detective was painfully aware of that. Lieutenant Detective Williams steepled his fingers in front of his face. "You did the same thing to my brother some time ago (handsome fellow, you might remember him) and a few former clients. You're a dirty cop, Lieutenant Detective Williams and that is the last time I will address you as either lieutenant or detective, or even 'Mr.' You don't deserve those honorifics." All the other cops were listening intently to the exchange, not even pretending to be engaged in other tasks anymore. "Internal Affairs, Central Command, the feds - they're all just waiting for the word to come for you and your cohorts to be escorted out of here in cuffs."

"You're in my precinct, Jacks-"

"No, you're in my precinct, Williams. My tax dollars pay for your salary, that computer, these desks, this entire precinct."

"I am an officer of the law and you would-"

"Do well to remember it? Williams, they're surely listening to us speak right now." By how pale the lieutenant detective became, Kingson knew a couple of his bluffs had hit home. "Please release my client, posthaste, as that's all I came here to see to, not to worry you about a pension you and your family will never receive." Kingson stood and strode out of the office, coming to sit with the girls, who had heard the entire conversation, as they were sitting right near the open door. They were in astonishment that anyone could talk to a cop, let alone a detective, like that... and get away with it.

A short time later, the Hispanic looking woman who had brought Lieutenant Detective Williams the printouts from Central Command, who was surely also some type of detective, came out of the lieutenant detective's room and went over to the OIC station. She spoke briefly to the captain and he made notations in a logbook in front of him. Then she proceeded to a nearby recessed bullpen area where Get Right and a few other detainees were being held. She opened the gate and Get Right walked out. He presented himself to the captain and was told it had been a mistake for him to be arrested, blahzay blah. Imani was on the balls of her feet and as soon as some discharge papers were handed to him and he turned towards her in leaving she flew into his arms. Get Right opened his arms to allow Katrina into a group hug too. Some of the officers were downright scandalized, some envious and some excited as Get Right kissed first one girl and then the other who was right there! After the hugs and kisses, Get Right peeled himself away from the ladies a thunderclap of a dap and a mighty hug that lasted a long time. They separated and he held Kingson at arm's length, just shaking his head in admiration and in hero worship, because right then and there, in a dark and bleak situation, Kingson was the light. Yes, with no mincing of words, Kingson was his hero.

Get Right was simply at a loss of words for all the gratitude he felt. That was twice Kingson had saved him from a possibly adverse judgment. Kingson understood and smiled, guiding them all out of the precinct, the perfect guardian. A small flock of officers trailed behind them, watching their exodus. Detectives Lindsey and Hartmann had entered through the first set of doors and were just mounting the short stairs to the second set of doors in the 28th when a flurry of gunshots rang out and both detectives flew back out of the first set of doors and into evasive maneuvers, guns drawn. Other officers more cautiously opened their front door and watched as a lone gunman was tackled by the lawyer who had just left the precinct.

Get Right was on the curb holding Imani, who had been shot in her side and Katrina was laying half on the curb, bleeding out from a leg wound. Kingson was on top of the middle-aged lone gunman whose handgun had been knocked out of his hand. Detectives Lindsey and Hartmann stood facing Kingson, guns drawn, watching while he he beat up the lone gunman. There was a flurry of activity as the area was shortly filled with blue and whites, undercover detectives and squad cars galore.