The Yale-man cocked his head to one side, the way you do when you're looking at someone who's just lost their mind. Then he said, “This room is notbugged. I worked in the U.S. Attorney's Office for many years, doing just what Joel does, so you can trust me on this. Now, did you pass Dave Beall a note?”
Deny! Deny! Deny! “Whatif I did?” I asked aggressively. “I mean, I'm not saying I did, but since they think I did, what if I did?”
“Then we have a serious problem,” he replied. “Joel could break your cooperation agreement—which means you'd be sentenced without a 5K letter.”
Remain calm! It's your word against his!“That's bullshit, Nick! How can they prove I passed Dave Beall a note? I mean, I'm saying I didn't do it, and they're saying I did. And even if Dave is cooperating, who's to say he'snot the one who's lying?” I shook my head righteously. “I mean, really! They can't hold back my 5K letter without having proof, right?”
The Yale-man shrugged. “It's not so cut-and-dry. If they think you're lying they can still withhold it, although I doubt that's what's going on here.”
“What do you mean?”
“My guess is that they dohave proof, or at least they think they have proof; they wouldn't be coming on so strong otherwise.” He paused for a moment, as if lost in thought. After a few seconds, he said, “Okay, let's just assume for a second that you didpass him the note. Where would you have been when you passed it to him?”
Unbelievable!I thought. Even now, at the very moment of my doom, I couldn't help but marvel at the twisted nature of the U.S. legal system. The simple fact was that if I came clean with my attorney—telling him that I didpass Dave Beall the note—then he could no longer represent me if I continued to lie. So, instead, we had to speak in “hypothetical terms,” so my attorney could try to find out where I was most vulnerable. Then he would help me mold the best bullshit story possible that was consistent with the known facts.
“I would have probably been in a restaurant,” I replied.
“And why would you say that?”
“Because that's where the meeting in question took place.”
He nodded. “Okay, and what was the name of the restaurant?”
“Caracalla. It's on Long Island, in Syosset.”
“And was the restaurant crowded?”
I knew what he was getting at. “No, there were only a handful of people there, and none of them was an FBI agent. I'm certain of it.”
The Yale-man nodded in agreement. “You're probably right about that. You've been cooperating for a while now, so I'm sure Coleman trusts you.” He paused for a moment, while his last few words hung in the air like mustard gas. Yes, I had betrayed OCD's trust. He had always been straight with me and I had fucked him over royally! But, still, I had acted like a man. I had maintained my self-respect. And this is what happens!
The Yale-man continued: “Okay, so for argument's sake, let's just assume that you didpass him the note but that no one saw you. Would anything have been said on tape that would sound incriminating—meaning, would Dave Beall have reacted to the note? You understand what I'm saying?”
“Yeah, I do”— and what do you think, I'm stupid? I didn't just pass him the note without warning!-“but I'm sure that that's not it. I mean, if I was gonna take a risk like that, I would have been very careful about it. I would have looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was watching, and then I would have sent him a signal—like maybe putting my finger to my lips or something like that. Anyway, there's nothing on that tape out of the ordinary, except that Dave didn't incriminate himself. But that's not so unusual, is it? I mean, I've had four or five meetings with Gaito and hehasn't incriminated himself. So it's really my word against Dave's, no?”
“I hear what you're saying,” reasoned the Yale-man, “but there's something not adding up here.” He paused for a moment. Then: “Let me ask you this: If you had passed him a note, would you have taken it back afterward or would he have kept it as a souvenir?”
I let out a great sigh. “I'm not sure, Nick. I mean, I probably would have assumed that he would just throw the note out, but I'm not really sure.” I paused and shook my head ironically. It was unbelievable! I had protected my friend, and as a way of saying thank you he ratted me out! Magnum had been right all along, and so had OCD. I was a fool, and now I was about to lose my life over it. I said, “Let me ask you a question, Nick: What's gonna happen here if I don't get a 5K letter? I mean, will I really end up doing thirty years?”
“Yes,” he said quickly. “Maybe even more. Joel will hit you with other charges on top of what you've already pled guilty to: You've got obstruction of justice, lying to a federal officer, and a few others too. But we cannotlet that happen. We need to do everything possible to stop this from going beyond this room.” He put his hand on my shoulder, the way a friend would. “I need to know right now—as your lawyer: Did you pass Dave Beall a note?”
I nodded sadly. “Yeah, Nick, I did. I passed him the note, and it said exactly what Coleman said it did.” I chuckled softly. “You know, it's hard to believe that I went out on a limb for a friend and this is what I get in return.”
The Yale-man nodded. “Can I ask you why you did it?”
I shrugged. “Why, does it matter?”
With surprise: “Of course it matters! If you were trying to protect Dave Beall because he was holding money for you or you were in the process of breaking the law with him, then this is not going to end well. But if it was simply a crisis of conscience, and you had nothing to gain other than holding on to some mistaken notion of self-respect, then there might be a way out of this. So which is it? Are you hiding something else or was it just because he's your friend?”
“The latter,” I said confidently, feeling like the boy who cried Wolf. “I swear to God about that, Nick”— shit! I had already done that today, and then lied!“I mean, this time I reallyswear to God! I had nothing to gain here other than to help a friend. That's it. I went to that meeting with every intention of getting Dave to talk, but then something happened when I sat at the table. I don't know—I just kinda looked at him and saw everything that Stratton could've been. I felt like it was my fault for corrupting him in the first place. I ignited his greed with those stupid meetings I used to give and all that sort of shit. And, unlike the other people I cooperated against, Dave was a friend, or at least I thought he was. Now I know that there are no friends—and that there is no loyalty—and that it's every man for himself!” I shook my head angrily. “Now I'm probably going to jail for the rest of my fucking life because of it!” I paused for a moment, trying to rein in my anger. “And what about my kids?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Chandler and Carter. Oh, God—what did I do?”
The Yale-man put his hand on my shoulder again and patted it a few times. “Okay,” he said. “Now we gotta pick up the pieces. We gotta clean this mess up.”
“And how do we do that?”
“Well, for starters, you gotta come clean with them immediately. We can't let this drag on past today.”
“Yeah? Well, Joel hates my guts, Nick. The second I admit to this, he's going to break my cooperation agreement. I know it.” I paused for a moment, thinking of the short-term ramifications. “I have to see my kids again. I need to one more time before this goes down. Just to kiss them good-bye and tell them that I love them.”
“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “And I'm sure that if I go outside and tell Joel that you have something to say to him, he'll agree not to take any immediate action; he'll at least think about it overnight.”