52.

Kevin Suskind, powered by paranoia and fueled by cocaine, was freaking out that he had shot an FBI agent. He couldn't afford to stop running and being caught was not an option. He jumped another fence into a backyard, but the CHP officer was still hot on his tail. He jumped out of the yard into another, and another, but this strategy just seemed to slow the entire process down. He needed to break free of his pursuer, long enough to make a call and be picked up and taken to a safe house.

On the next jump, Suskind twisted his ankle on the landing in the soft rows of a broccoli farm, but his high and the need to escape dulled his pain. Nevertheless, it slowed him down.

"Freeze!" said the CHP officer. Suskind turned his head to glance behind him, and found the officer about 50 yards away, in a shooting stance with his weapon drawn.

"Put your hands on your head!" commanded the officer, and Suskind obeyed. The second officer arrived and drew his weapon also, covering his partner. It was over for Suskind. The first officer approached him with his gun trained on him at every second, felt his pockets, disarmed him of his .38, then handcuffed him.

"29 CHP, Highway 101, unit 9, I have WMA suspect in custody, requesting backup," said the officer into his shoulder mic.

Brent ran into the emergency room in a panic, and was directed to a room where Angela lay, hooked up to an IV. When he entered the room, she smiled.

"Thank God you're alive!"

"I'm fine, just bruises. But look at the vest," she said, pointing to the chair beside her. Brent pulled up Angela's flak jacket by its straps, and could see the bullet holes.

"Five shots, two of them hit me in the chest," she said. Brent hugged Angela.

"You're not going to make me cry," she said, wiping a forming tear from her eye.

"No more playing super cop," he said. She nodded, and squeezed him, wincing from the pain in her ribs.

"They caught the guy," she said. "Now get back to court and fry them!"

53.

Back in the courtroom, Steven Bernstein resumed his place in the witness box when court came to order. Judge Masters would not waste a minute of the carefully allocated court time.

"Mr. Bernstein, do you know a Kevin Suskind?"

"Objection, Your Honor, assumes facts not in evidence," said Black, finally chiming in.

At the bench, Black argued, "Your Honor, the name Kevin Suskind has never come up in discovery."

"That's because he's an impeachment witness, Your Honor. I'm filing this amended witness list," said Brent, handing a copy to Stein and Black.

"Your Honor, this is unfair surprise! We were never advised of this witness before," said Stein.

"Mr. Marks says he's an impeachment witness. To impeach whom, Mr. Marks?"

"The testimony of Mr. Bernstein, Your Honor. I'm just laying the foundation for it."

"And you intend to call this witness next?"

"Yes, Your Honor. I have him on subpoena. He's in custody, right next door in the holding cell."

"Then proceed, Mr. Marks, but, since this is only foundational, keep it short."

"Mr. Bernstein, do you know a Kevin Suskind?"

"I need to talk to my lawyer."

"Move to strike as non-responsive."

"Granted. You will answer the question, Mr. Bernstein."

"I need to talk to my lawyer."

"Your Honor, please instruct the witness to answer the question."

"Your Honor," said Black, I would like a word with my client.

"Mr. Black, your client has been testifying all morning. If he needs your counsel, he can have it on the breaks. Now, Mr. Bernstein, please answer the question. Do you know a Kevin Suskind?"

"I refuse to answer that question on Fifth Amendment grounds," said Bernstein.

The collective sigh of shock came like a wave over the courtroom.

"Your Honor, my client claims his privilege against self-incrimination and will not answer any further questions," said Black.

"Your Honor, Mr. Bernstein has waived his privilege against self-incrimination," argued Brent. The argument did not go far at the bench. Bernstein would not be testifying anymore, and Brent wouldn't get a peep out of Suskind, but the implication to the jury was clear Bernstein was guilty.

At the bench, Stein and Black made an unusual request. "Your Honor, in light of this development, the defense requests a recess," said Stein.

"And the purpose of that recess?"

"To discuss settlement with my client."

"Very well, Mr. Stein, we will queue up the next witness for the plaintiff, but all of the time you use will be coming out of your trial time if there turns out to be no settlement."

"Understood, Your Honor."

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the defendant has refused to further testify on the grounds that it may incriminate him. He has a constitutional privilege not to further testify and you may not infer from his exercise of the privilege or his silence that he is guilty of any crime or use it as proof of any issue in this proceeding," said Masters.

Jack London said, "Life is not always a matter of holding good cards, but playing a poor hand well." Brent was likely holding a losing hand, but he had a hell of a bluff going.

54.

Brent used the time to prepare April, in the small cafeteria of the courthouse. Since her assessment of the case and Brent's were, most likely, drastically different, even if they were to get an excellent offer, she could reject it, the case would go to the jury, and Brent was not confident that they had presented enough evidence to win. Not only that, the potentially deadly threat of "Mike the Cleaner" still lingered in his mind.

"Can you explain to me what's going on?" she asked.

"Kevin Suskind was just arrested, after a high speed chase and a shootout with the police, where he shot an FBI agent."

"Oh my God! Who is he?"

"Agent Wollard matched a hair sample taken from Suskind to one found at your parent's house."

April started to cry. "So he's the one who murdered my parents. And Bernstein doesn't want to testify because he's in on it. I knew it!"

"Now, don't go so fast."

"Are they going to prosecute him for the murder?"

"It's too soon to tell. Right now, Suskind has been arrested in connection with Rick Penn's disappearance."

"Then this is good for us, isn't it? I mean, good for the case."

"Yes and no."

"What do you mean 'yes and no'?"

"Yes, it points to Bernstein's guilt, but no, I don't think it's enough to establish the predicate act for RICO."

"The jury heard him."

"And they were instructed to ignore it."

"But they heard it."

"Yes, they heard it, but that doesn't mean that they'll vote in our favor. We have to establish that predicate act, and you know it's always been the weakest link of our case."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that their offer before was to walk away from the home loan. Now I think they will come back with some serious money. They can't afford to have this get out in the press, win or lose."

"Well good then, let's go for it!"

"And if we lose?"

"Then we lose."

"April, you've lost your mother, and your father. This is a chance to punish the bank and make them pay. The money won't bring them back, or ease your pain, but you will be able to keep their house, mortgage free, and have some money to give to their future grandchildren. I'm sure they would have wanted this for you."

"Do what you need to do Brent, but you know my answer."

55.

Charles Stinson used to say that "a good compromise is one where both parties walk away disappointed." He also said, "Whoever gives the first number loses." That phrase stuck in Brent's mind when a smiling Joe Stein approached him, swinging his briefcase.

"Counselor, let's talk turkey," Stein said.

"We're on your dime, talk away."

"My client realizes that your client has suffered great losses. Of course, in my estimation, they could never be held responsible for these losses."

"Of course."

"But, nevertheless, Bernstein's taking the Fifth is a fuck up. I don't think you have enough evidence to win this case, but it's worth it to the bank to cover your client's fees and incidental costs, if we can get a confidential settlement."

"It would take a lot more than incidental costs to settle this case," said Brent.

"You've discussed it with your client. How much will it take to settle the case?"

Smiling slyly, Brent said, "You tell me. You're the one who asked for the time away from the trial to talk settlement. You can't be coming to me just now after the past hour just to get to a starting point."

"Fair enough."

"Somebody's got to give a number, Joe, and it's not going to be me. My client wants this case to go to the jury, win or lose."

"That's not a very wise decision."

"So we're at a Mexican standoff? Let's go back to the courtroom." Brent starting walking toward the courtroom like a tourist bargaining for a sombrero in Tijuana.

"Wait."

Brent stopped, but paused before turning, so as not to appear too anxious.

"Yes?"

"Quiet title to the house, plus $1 million in costs, that's our final offer."