Dexter Walker was very likely dead either way.
“Let me ask you again, Mr. Walker. Were you aware of what was in the ruby-crusted jewel box on Sammy Gravanzo’s desk when you visited his office April 2nd?”
Dexter Walker, a bulldog of man with shaved head and anvil jaw, hunched forward in the witness box, clasping his meaty hands. A floral tie, selected by his attorney’s secretary, coordinated with the red handkerchief spilling from his breast pocket. But to anyone in the courtroom, the suit appeared tight and ill-fitting, bunched at the shoulders with creases down the arms straining to contain him.
Dexter tried to answer matter-of-factly. “That’s the first I saw it.”
“Oh, Mr. Gravanzo is fond of jewelry boxes. He has quite a collection, especially red ones, doesn’t he?”
Metal feet screeched against the tile floor as Walker’s attorney rose from his chair. “Objection, your honor. Counsel is testifying.”
“Sustained. Please rephrase, Mr. White.”
The D.A. started again. “You also saw the emerald box right next to this one then – the one with the gold lizards on top?”
“Everybody saw that.”
“And did Mr. Gravanzo ever show you the contents of that box?”
“Didn’t have to.”
“And why is that?”
Everybody knew.”
“Knew the contents of the box, you mean?”
Dexter Walker looked at his attorney and didn’t immediately answer.
The D.A. picked up the lizard box, Exhibit B, and waved it in the air as he strode to the witness stand. “So everybody saw the lizard box and knew what was in it, including you. Would you please tell the court what you and everyone knew?” Mr. White thrust the lizard box forward. “…Or do we need to refresh your memory?”
The answer came quickly. “It’s a finger.”
“Which finger?”
“Right ring finger.”
“And whose ring is on that finger?”
Mr. Walker looked at his attorney whose neck tilted to the side with a twitch.
“Can’t say.”
“Oh, c’mon Mr. Walker. Can’t say, or won’t? Everyone knew about that box, not just because of the gold lizards, but because of what was inside. It was legendary. And it just wasn’t any finger, was it? Would you please describe the ring for the court. It’s a special ring, isn’t it? And it’s not like you never saw it before, like you claim about the ruby box.”
Mr. Walker adjusted himself in the chair uncomfortably but said nothing.
“Well, let me lay out what everyone knew, including you, and especially you.” A closeup appeared on the TV screen, depicting a Black man’s finger inside a gold ring. The ring sported an ebony panther with a diamond eye that stared at everyone.
“Who did this ring belong to Mr. Walker? You know. You worked for him for years. You knew his operation inside out. How he applied pressure to his rivals, and just exactly where he was vulnerable. Didn’t you, Mr. Walker? Didn’t you?”
Mr. Walker’s attorney again jumped to his feet. “Objection, your honor. The D.A. is badgering and leading the witness, there’s no foundation here. Mr. White is on an expedition for a great white and his line’s hanging over the side of his dinghy with a limp eel.”
The courtroom tittered with laughter and the judge had to repeatedly slam his gavel to regain control, “Overruled. –Mr. Walker’s business connections are already well documented in the case file, so I’ll allow some latitude. Just don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Mr. White.”
“Please tell the court the name of your former employer who wore that ring?”
Again nothing.
“You know, Mr. Walker, you don’t have to say anything. Everyone in this court already knows the answer. Clarence “Biggy” Blackwell was edging in on Gravanzo’s territory. You knew Gravanzo was stronger, better organized, so you jumped ship after Biggy lost his finger. Isn’t that right?”
“Objection. The D.A.’s making a bloviating speech, your honor.”
“Sustained. Please use the proper form of questioning, Mr. White.”
“Let me shift gears. Can you tell the court the significance of the eye of the panther?”
Not a word.
“Did it have anything to do with revenge?”
Nothing.
“And what revenge did you witness?”
The slick suit stood up again screeching his chair. “Objection. Leading the witness.”
“Sustained.”
“Can you tell us what was in the ruby-crusted box now, Mr. Walker?”
No answer.
“Did you know red meant an eyeball? Mr. Gravanzo knows how to send a message doesn’t he?”
“The DA’s testifying again, your honor.”
“Sustained.”
“No further questions, your honor.”
Mr. Walker stepped down and his attorney gave him a reassuring pat on the back before he left the courtroom. In a remote mountain hotel, Dexter slept night after night on a bed of nails with a pistol under his pillow, wondering who would get there first. When the tension got to him, he’d down a fifth of bourbon to sleep.
At 4:30 a.m. one Sunday, three men jimmied the door. They cracked him with a .38 and then dragged him in his pajamas to a waiting Mercedes. The gang was 10 miles from shore in shark-infested waters when the sun finally crested the horizon.
Dexter awoke to the hum of the engines and found his arms and legs handcuffed to a heavy chair. It could’ve been Biggy’s men, but it wasn’t. A glint of red caught his eye. Across the room, a jewelry box sat in the center of a table. He recognized the red as ruby, but soon realized the lone ruby atop this cheap box was paste and the box, very likely, plastic.
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