Jack Daniels and Associates: Snake Wine Read Free

His Rolex and rings were exchanged for steel handcuffs and shackles. The grill was all he had left, Davidson thought. That and his tattoos spelling out exactly how much of a monster he really was. Every inch of his arms and neck were scrawled with the words "Money," "Murder," "Bitches," or rather, "Bitchez," "Drugs," and all sorts of colorful euphemisms for female genitalia. Davidson had petitioned the court to allow his client to appear in long-sleeved jumpers.
    "Sorry, your honor, we were fresh out of long sleeve jumpsuits this week," was the jail's response. 
    People say the rich don't go to jail, Davidson thought, and the only reason that's sometimes true is that they can raise an army of expert witnesses to dispute solid evidence. A good prosecution is like a symphony, structured to hit the right notes at the right time. The prosecutor is the conductor, bringing in the scientific evidence at the right moment, calling on the eye witnesses to hammer the refrain. Done right, it's an overwhelming display designed to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. To put people like Keenan "Ack Trife" Marvin behind bars for life with no chance of release.
    Expert witnesses for the defense are static in the speakers. Their job is to confuse and distort the prosecutor's message to the jury. Their job is to poke holes in what anybody would look at and say, "Guilty."
    When Davidson put the call out for experienced expert witnesses in narcotics distribution cases, he began the conversation by offering twice the usual fee. Every single person hung up on him. Nobody wanted to make that many enemies with Chicago PD. It was career suicide.
    The decision was made to bring in an out-of-towner. Somebody with good credentials who played fair. Somebody a jury could and would believe. Davidson heard the same name enough times that he finally decided that there was only one man for the job.
     
    Over seven hundred miles away, Frank O'Ryan looked at the unfamiliar area code appearing on his phone and ditched the call. If they were serious, they'd leave a voicemail. But whoever it was, he or she called back right away. Frank answered the phone and said, "Hello?"
    Davidson introduced himself and said Frank had been recommended as the right person to provide expert witness testimony in a high-profile narcotics case. Frank didn't hang up. Davidson poured on the smooth, saying, "My client is offering large coin for someone with your level of expertise, plus all expenses."
    There was silence on the line for a second, until Frank said, "You realize I'm in Pennsylvania, right? Just outside of Philly."
    "Yes, sir," Davidson said.
    "That kind of money, why isn't anyone local taking the case?"
    Davidson cursed under his breath. Some cops were quicker than others, and less lured in by the sound of dollar bills fluttering in the breeze. "As I said, the case is high-profile. There was an extensive investigation against him, and it involved a lot of people. Unfortunately, most of my regular experts are associated with people tied into the people involved, so I can't use them because of various conflicts and such." Davidson silently congratulated himself for coming up with that one on the spot, but it had sounded good and as it was already said, he bit his lip and waited.
    "Did your guy kill anybody?"
    "Yes," Davidson said, "But you won't be involved in that aspect. Just the narcotics."
    "Who were the victims?"
    "Drug dealers. Bad guys. No cops, no women or children. Listen, Frank, I'm in kind of a tight spot over here. All I'm asking you to do is come in, take a look at the evidence, and tell me what my options are. If you can't testify, so be it. I'll cut you a check on the spot, and we go our separate ways."
    "How much are we talking?" Frank said.
    "Two grand to come in and assess the evidence. An extra three grand on top of that if you testify. Plus airfare, hotel, food and rental car. What the hell, it's a week in the Windy City on me, no strings attached. What