Grant (part 1 of 3)

Grant

 “You felt trapped and you have ever since you were arrested in Crete."

Max Leroy

General population was the last thing on Grant’s mind when he rolled back to his bed in room E of  the East Infirmary of the Bargin Lake Prison.  But when Deric Hallester said, “I’m going back today,” Grant pictured the concrete tables and could almost smell the stale air from the Cretan super prison.  Lisa, the nurse, came and checked on Hallester for a final time.  “It’s just that there’s a pain in my lower back.  And my throat is very dry,” Hallester complained.

“If I treated everyone who had a dry throats, Deric, everyone would be up here,” Lisa said.

“Alright, you’re all set Deric,” She gave him her cool smile and turned to Grant.  “How are you doing, Seamus?” She said flatly.

“Fine.  A bit of a headache but that’s usual.”  The relationship between him and Lisa began as a strained one.  Tense conversations about catheters and his younger brother were pillars of their relationship. Grant had, until recently, irregularly discharged urine so a catheter was necessary to keep things clean. Grant had hated every minute of having the catheter in.

The other stumbling block in his relationship with the nurse was that his brother, Tony, was in some degree Lisa’s lover.  Tony had followed him back to Newtopia when the authorities transferred him and the rest of the inmates back to where they had come.  The super prison had closed due to a breakdown in legitimate correctional practices.  Two inmates and one guard had died behind those walls. The warden was found a week later dead in his Spanish summer home.  The media said he was killed by some of the revolutionary, nomadic Spanish youth that had stumbled upon his remote and exotic home. 

Grant was happy his brother had shown up here in Newtopia but at first he was not; Tony had been the lead prosecuting attorney back in Crete against Grant during his trial.  Grant only just learned that his brother took that roll because he wanted to get close to the group that framed Grant, not because of a petty sibling rivalry.  Tony had also hired a private, Newtopian-licensed attorney without much difficulty.  The irony of it all was as paralyzing as the next head injury would be: his own brother had prosecuted him (very successfully), he then comes asking for forgiveness, and then hires a lawyer. But what will this lawyer help me do?

Lisa nodded then left.  Soon a pair of guards escorted Hallester out.  When his lawyer entered Grant was dozing off.

“So I hear you’ve been through a lot,” the man said.  He was wearing a suit that seemed too big for him.  The suit size made him look short even though he was close to 5’10’’.  His features showed age but he seemed to react and move like a teenager. 

“What’s your name?” Grant asked ignoring the comment.

“Leroy, Max Leroy. Nice to meet you.”  He waited for Grant but when Grant said nothing he said, “Well let’s begin.  Before we can sue the daylights out of the Cretan government we’re going to want to get protection. You want better arrangements here? Yes, let’s change things.  How is the TV?  Do you want food from somewhere from now on? Do you have any security preferences?”

“The offer is gracious but I just doubt the prison would allow private security.”

“The name ‘Leroy’ can make a lot of things happen in this city.  You let me worry about that.  So I’m guessing you did not use a security detail while abroad.  Shall I just pick my own people? They’re really great.”

“Well I heard that Malcom Security was good,” Grant said.  Leroy stopped moving and stared at him.  Then he turned his head and stared some more.

“There were at least six other firms asking your brother to represent you.  We all knew this was one of the biggest cases we would get," Leroy began.  "Your brother picked me because I knew the most about you and your case.  I followed it more and deeper than the news coverage.  I knew they were closing the Cretan Prison weeks before they did.  I know you have a fiancé, I know there was a second shooter at the court house in Crete, and I know that Malcom security was the one who were supposed to have protected poor ol' Baxton. And I also know that one of them was convicted of murdering him.  Mr. Grant, besides the fact that they are probably restructured completely it’s not the best way to get that sort of information.”

“Ok,” Grant said and nodded.  “I just need to know where you stood. I am impressed.”

“No you didn’t and I’m sure you are.”  Leroy stood up putting his briefcase on his chair, “you felt trapped and you have ever since you were arrested in Crete.  You felt trapped and you tried to use me to run your own little investigation.  I understand, people feel trapped when their hands are cuffed.  Please just consider me your hands from now on.  If we work together we may be able to bring down some of the largest powers of our time.”