The Defense: A Novel by Steve Cavanagh Read Free Book Online

novel, the trashier the better, and read until she fell asleep. By the time I’d turned fourteen, I’d beaten every decent fighter in the district, including kids two and three years older than me. I was fast, I hit hard, and I didn’t go down easy. My dad wanted me to get better, so after our session in the bar, we’d take the E train to Lexington Avenue and I’d spar in Mickey Hooley’s gym on 54th Street against the best young fighters that Hell’s Kitchen had to offer. That’s where I met most of the guys who ended up in my crew. And one particular guy, a squat little boy with a sledgehammer right cross, by the name of Jimmy Fellini, who quickly became my best pal. Jimmy would go on to be a promising amateur boxer, and I watched every one of his fights. We were brothers back then. But Jimmy missed out on his shot at turning pro.
    He had family commitments.
    Two years after I’d joined Mickey’s gym, my dad got sick. We weren’t poor, and my dad always paid the health insurance for the whole family, right on time, every month in life. The rare form of cancer that took him wasn’t covered under the policy. My dad hired a lawyer, the cheapest one he could find. The insurance company hired a big-city law firm, and the case went to court. I watched my dad’s lawyer get crucified. It wasn’t his fault; he was hopelessly outmatched. We lost the case, and even with money from friends and Jimmy’s family, we didn’t have enough to pay the hospital fees. Without proper treatment, my dad was dead within six months.
    I wasn’t there when he died. In his hospital room, I’d held his frail, skeletal hand in mine for eleven hours and then got up and left to get a soda from the machine. When I got back, I saw my mom waiting for me at the door to his room. I knew he was dead. She didn’t say anything. She just handed me his Saint Christopher medal and cried. After that, it was just me and my mom, and she looked after me as best she could. She even let me box as long as I got straight As. I kept my promise and graduated top of my class. I made sure to have mac and cheese or a plate of eggs waiting for her when she got home from the restaurant. Most nights she didn’t eat it, but she never failed to thank me. I couldn’t cook for shit, and she knew it, but she was thanking me for being the man of the house and keeping a little part of Dad alive. She’d stopped reading the romance novels. Instead she watched a little TV with me before turning in.
    When I’d completed school, I hit the illegal fight circuit for a year and ran a few scams on the side. Before the year was out, I had enough money to stake my operation. I hit the street at eighteen, ready to set up: a perfect con, a surefire way to steal every last cent that I could from the people who killed my dad—insurance companies and the rich lawyers who protected them.
    Looking back, they hadn’t stood a chance.
    “Lawyer,” said Arturas, from the reception room. “Time’s up. We have to go. The trial is about to start.”

 
    CHAPTER SIX
    Leaving my coat and pants in the chambers office and sporting my new suit, I joined the Russians at the door. Arturas wheeled the suitcase behind him.
    “What’s in the case?” I asked.
    “Volchek’s files—all the papers that Jack prepared for the hearing.”
    “Is there a prosecution witness list?”
    “Yes, and Benny’s at the end of it.”
    I’d guessed about as much. The prosecution always saved their best witness till last.
    We rode the elevator to the fourteenth floor and court sixteen. The elevators opened up to a wide hall. The white stone walls were bedecked with four huge plaques listing the names of lawyers and judges who fought and died in World War II. Bathrooms and vending machines were scattered around the corners. To the left of the elevators, the long marble staircase rose to the upper floor.
    Directly ahead of us were the open, oak double doors that led to a packed courtroom.
    Court sixteen was