Dwayne, now is the time to back the hell out.
And lose my job? And possibly not get any other job in the legal fraternity?
If Mr. Leone is convicted, you're as good as dead.
Then I have to make sure that he isn't.
Dwayne gathered his briefcase and his keys and walked out of the building. Sure enough, Mr. Bertarelli sent him the address and Dwayne felt a knot in his throat. Matteo's office was located in the heart of Downtown L.A., an upscale strip club that catered to the city's elite but with a reputation for shady dealings below the surface.
He sank behind the wheel of his truck and started the engine. He needed to remind himself that people are innocent until proven guilty and that's exactly how he was going to treat Mr. Leone, as an innocent man.
But, what if you get there and the information he shares states that he's guilty?
I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Forty minutes later, Dwayne drove into the club's parking lot where a few cars littered the parking lot. Everything seemed quiet compared to the music that usually blared from the establishment and the long lines of patrons trying to bribe their way inside. He grabbed his briefcase and made his way to the entrance.
Standing by the door was a tall, bald, muscular man with a moustache and shades. He was dressed in all black with his arms folded across his chest, his biceps bulging under his tight t-shirt.
"Good morning. My name is Dwayne Jackson from Bertarelli's Law Firm. I'm here to see Mr. Leone, he's expecting me."
The man grunted and waved a hand for Dwayne to follow him inside.
In the main area of the club, a few girls were dancing while men in suits ogled them and threw them some cash while the bartender wiped down the counter. Dwayne followed Baldy up the stairs and down a hallway before they made a left turn and stopped. Baldy knocked and a gruff voice on the other end barked for them to come in.
Baldy opened the door and ushered Dwayne into the office, closing the door behind him.
"Good morning, Mr. Leone, I'm Dwayne Jackson."
Dwayne walked toward the desk where Matteo sat, watching as the older man ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair, which was a blend of black and silver. His neatly trimmed moustache and beard streaked with the same salt-and-pepper mix, framed his sharp jawline.
"Mr. Jackson, thank you for coming on such short notice."
Matteo stood and extended his hand, offering a smile that never reached his stormy grey eyes. As Dwayne shook Matteo's hand, his gaze flickered to the faint scar running from just above Matteo's left eyebrow to just below his eye, healed clean, barely noticeable.
"Please, have a seat."
Dwayne sat across from Matteo in a leather seat while Matteo took his seat behind his large mahogany desk. Dwayne watched as Matteo opened his desk drawer, removed a fat envelope and slid it across his desk toward Dwayne.
"Before we begin, I wanted to give this to you." Mr. Leone's expression was blank.
"What is it?" Dwayne asked, not moving to pick up the envelope.
You know exactly what it is! A bribe to keep you quiet for whatever he's about to tell you!
Mr. Leone leaned forward in his chair, his index fingers and thumbs pressed together his eyes focused on Dwayne.
"This is a gift of one hundred grand to ensure that you get the job done that you came here to do."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Leone, but even though I appreciate this very thoughtful gift, I can't accept it," Dwayne said respectfully.
"Mr. Jackson, I'm quite sure that you're aware of the type of business that my family dabbles in. Yet, still, you chose to come. Why is that?"
Because I didn't have a choice!
"Because I have a job to do and I plan on doing it successfully." Dwayne's gaze didn't falter.
"But, you didn't decline which you could have. It would be in your best interest to take the money, Mr. Jackson." Mr. Leone's voice was stern.
Dwayne nodded, recognizing a threat beneath Matteo's words. He picked up the envelope, and tucked it into his briefcase. Before closing the briefcase, he removed a notepad and a pen, keeping his expression unreadable.
"Good choice, Mr. Jackson."
Matteo stood up and walked over to the small table in the office that had a variety of alcohol and a few turned-down glasses. He poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to Dwayne who knew better than to reject it. Mr. Leone took a sip of his drink and glanced at Dwayne who sipped his as well.
Matteo walked over to the window and looked outside, glass still in hand. "I'm sure, you're wondering why you're here."
Dwayne kept silent waiting for Matteo to continue.
"Every week I have a shipment of girls that arrive on the dock and a shipment that leaves. Every week it's the same time and same people who check my cargo."
A bitter taste pooled in Dwayne's mouth and this time he took a gulp of his drink, his body tense, not liking where the conversation was headed.
"However," Mr. Leone turned towards Dwayne, his eyes steely grey. "This week two of my men didn't show up to work so two new men showed up. They heard banging in the container, checked it out and now they want to arrest me for human trafficking."
Fuckity, fuck, fuck!
Told you, you should've backed out.
"And you want me to make this go away," Dwayne stated confidently.
"Yes. My other lawyer was able to get me out on bail but they seized my passport. I hate incompetence so I got rid of him."
Matteo emphasized the last three words causing Dwayne's mind to go into a tailspin, while his face remained blank.
"They might be able to prove that the container to be shipped is registered to you; however they'd have to prove that you ordered someone to put those girls in there," Dwayne stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
The edges of Mr. Leone's mouth twitched into a smirk as he stepped toward his desk and sat behind it.
Dwayne continued, "Do you know if the police spoke with the girls yet or where they are being held?"
Mr. Leone smiled smugly and spoke with confidence. "The girls won't speak since we've either killed their family or we have them stashed away in a brothel somewhere."
Wheels began to turn in Dwayne's mind as he assessed what Matteo just told him and something wasn't adding up.
Even if two of Matteo's men didn't arrive that day, wouldn't the others have warned the newcomers to keep their mouths shut? Or at least wouldn't Matteo find men he could trust to be on the dock at the time his cargo was there?
Dwayne's brows furrowed. "Mr. Leone, who is in charge of securing employees when your regulars don't come in?"
As soon as the last word left Dwayne's mouth, the atmosphere in the room turned chilly. Dwayne knew that treason within Matteo's ranks was sure death.
After a short pause, Mr. Leone responded, his eyes locked on Dwayne."You think that one of my men purposefully set this up?" Matteo's face turned stoic.
Dwayne nodded. "I do. Probably gave the regular men something to eat or drink that got them sick."
Dwayne wasn't stupid enough to throw men under the bus when he could create an excuse for them. One which they would be thankful for, making them much easier to question later.
Dwayne continued, "Mr. Leone, I'm assuming everyone on the dock on those given days are on your payroll, including the supervisor."
He managed to keep his voice steady as he continued, "I'm also assuming the subs for that day would have been well informed about what they may encounter and paid accordingly to be quiet about it or threatened to keep their lips sealed. The fact that the police got a tip-off means that this was an inside job. So Mr. Leone, who is in charge of securing employees when your regulars don't come in?"
Yet, again Matteo avoided Dwayne's question and responded with another question.
"Why do you think someone would want to stop my shipment?"
Dwayne knew better than to repeat the question again. However, he made a mental note to look into it when he left Matteo's office.
Dwayne thought for a moment about Matteo's question before answering. "There are two possibilities. First, someone is trying to dismantle your operation from the inside. Second, there was someone in that container they didn't want shipped."
Matteo leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Dwayne continued, "Mr. Leone, I'd need pictures of the girls who were in the container as well as pictures of the two subs who worked that day. Then, I can take it from there."
Matteo opened his drawer once more, removed a file and handed it to Dwayne. As Dwayne flipped through the pictures his heart stopped. He allowed his eyes to linger on one picture for a fraction too long, needing to be sure. As he shifted through the rest, every face blurred, except hers. Dread wrapped around his heart and he knew he was royally fucked.