Jason claims he robbed people, though not at gunpoint. But he adamantly refuses to admit that he’s killed anyone. The judge, sensing more to the story, demands that he tell the truth. He reveals that he had a partner in crime, a beautiful and exotic woman known only as Orchid.
Jason moved the microphone nearer to him. “I went to a bar over on Twelfth Street two nights in a row. Nice atmosphere, good drinks, decent music, good looking, willing women.”
“So you went there looking for love?”
“I went there looking to get laid, Your Honor.” His tone was matter-of-fact, his face serene.
A chuckle drifted around the room. Especially the men appreciated the truth and humor of that remark.
“And were you successful?” The judge raised a skeptical eyebrow.
The attractive young thief looked around the room, catching the eyes of several pretty women. They blushed, giggling behind their hands. His sensuous lips twitched.
Judge Walker didn’t miss a lick. “I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?”
He held out his hands, palms up, allowing her to do so with an inclination of his head.
“Are you always successful, Mr. Banes?”
“Nearly always, Your Honor. We all strike out once in awhile.”
“Would you say that you have more success than your friends?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly, fixing her with his dark brown eyes. “I don’t have any friends.”
The judge said nothing for a moment, her mouth slightly open with surprise. She cleared her throat. “Oh. Continue. Tell us what night that was.”
“That was the end of April, Your Honor. I think around the twenty-eighth? I forget the exact date. My flight records would show it.”
The court clerk looked on her computer file. “That was the evening of the twenty-eighth . The witness is correct.”
Jason’s disarming smile flashed at the woman who was probably old enough to be his mother. She blushed prettily, fanning herself slightly with her left hand.
“Thanks, love,” he said, his lower class Manchester accent slipping through for a moment.
“You’re so welcome, Mr. Banes,” she said with another giggle.
“If we could please continue!” Judge Walker’s Brooklyn accent got stronger when she was irritated, which she quickly was becoming.
“Of course, Your Honor. So I walked into the bar and ordered Goldschlager. I stood there for awhile when this woman walked over to me.”
“Had you seen her before?”
“Yes, I remembered seeing her the night before, sitting at the bar.”
“Did you speak to her?”
He blushed, shaking his head. “A lady like that? No.”
“Why not? You have a way with women, don’t you?”
“Your Honor, I don’t want to appear crass, but I was looking for a whole different type of woman that night. A lady with her class? She was way outta my league. So far out of my ballpark, I wouldn’t have touched her with a grand slam. I looked, if you catch my drift. And dreamed a little. That kind of pussy is way too upscale for me.”
The judge’s mouth dropped open. The bailiff chuckled, as did the other men in the court, including the D.A.
“I’ll thank you to watch your language, young man,” the judge cautioned as an afterthought.
“Sorry, Your Honor.”
“Yet she came over and talked to you?” The D.A. couldn’t help asking.
“I know, right? I’m thinking how the hell did I get so lucky? No real lady would look at a street brat like me twice. Dress me up in Savile Row, I’m still a grubby urchin.” He shrugged. “But over she came, slid up between me and the bar, shoving her ti—erm, chest in front of my face. Couldn’t help but take notice. She made an invitation I found unable to resist.”
“Invitation, Mr. Bates?” This again from the D.A.
“Yes, sir.” He looked at the judge. “I’d prefer not to be too exact, sir. It wasn’t what you’d call polite language. And there’s ladies present.”
“She made a suggestion of a sexual nature?”
“Indeed, sir. That she did. Explicit sexual nature. So I went with her.”
“And got to know her better?” The judge asked, clearing her throat pointedly.
“Yes, ma’am. In the Biblical sense, as it were.”
“After this night of debauchery,” the judge continued. “What did you do?”
“Well, we continued to get acquainted for the next day and that night. The second morning, she tells me she has this problem and needs a man like me to help her.”
“Had you told her your line of work?” His lawyer interjected.
“No. When I’m not working, I keep a low profile. I don’t use my real name, make up a persona that can in no way be tied to me professionally.”
“What name did you use when you met the flower woman?” The judge asked.
“Jason Bourne. You know, like the movie. She got a right chuckle out of that too. She said I was cuter than Matt Damon.”
“Did you question how she knew so much about you?” The D.A. asked him.
“Sir, I don’t mean to be nosy, but have you ever spent thirty-six hours having sex with a woman?”
“You had sex for thirty-six hours?” The bailiff yelped.