Page 24 of The Devil's Price

"Christ Almighty," I say in celebration. The window slides open with ease and both of us look around to make sure we've not been spotted. Then Noah hooks his fingers together in a stirrup and boosts me up as I plant a foot in his hands and push upward. In seconds, we're both inside the chambers of Judge Brendan Callahan.

We shut the window for now, keeping our cover, and both of us don blue surgeon's gloves to ensure we leave no trace of evidence.

"What are we lookin' fer, exactly?" Noah eyes a filing cabinet while I begin rifling through the drawers of the judge's desk.

"Anything… Proof this guy isn't who he says he is. Or maybe some sort of evidence that we've missed. There has to be something here." I don't know where they keep the evidence during trials, here or at the Garda station downtown. All I know is we have to find a different way to prove to Siobhan and this world that Mick is innocent. Only she can drop the charges.

"I got this, then," Noah says, pulling open the first drawer of the filing cabinet.

"We don't want a mistrial, so be careful. And make sure you put everything back as you found it." My mind wanders to the flash drive in my pocket, a deep fake made by Ronan's men to try to throw people off Mick's scent. If need be, I'll plant evidence to undo this horrible frame job, but I'm hoping we don't have to.

My hands set to work, opening one drawer after another. I find a stack of canceled checks all made out to the judge, all from various sources. I'm not sure what they mean, so I organize them on the desk and snap pictures, then stack them and put them back. I find a ring of keys that go to God only knows what and think of taking them, but the instant we open the door to the judge's chambers, we'd be seen on closed-circuit TV. We can't do anything except search this room. Siobhan says the judge is her friend, but why would he show up in her home unannounced and scare the life out of her?

"Oh, wow, I think I got something." I look up at Noah whose eyes are poring over the stapled together files from the second drawer of the filing cabinet. He seems glued to the documents, and I sit down in the judge's chair and watch him.

"What is it?"

"Old case files," he responds as his hands dip back into the filing cabinet to pull more out. There's a heap of them, a stack as tall as his forearm, which he carries over to the desk. I lean back and let him step up and set them down. My body screams at me from the blows I got earlier. I have bruises down both my front and my back.

"What are they?" I ask, wincing as I lean forward again.

"Callahan has overseen fourteen trials in organized crime related cases. Fourteen," he repeats for emphasis. His handshold one of the files stapled, so I pick up the next one on the stack and read the top page, a rundown of how the case ended. It looks to be the judge’s personal notes.

"Fecking hell," I sigh. This judge is as dirty as a snake slithering in the sand. "He's gone soft." I can't believe what I'm seeing. It appears the judge has weaseled his way into being the only one to oversee organized crime cases and every one I look at involves Cormac Doyle's men. Every one of them received a not-guilty verdict from the judge himself, bypassing any jury trials.

"Fecking hell is right," Noah says, meeting my stern gaze. "This judge is right dirty. He's working with the Doyles. I'd bet my mother's life on it."

"Me too." I run a hand down my face and pull out my phone again, handing it to him. "Pictures of everything. We can't miss a detail if we're going to get Mick off." Noah takes my phone and begins snapping pictures of every page.

So Judge Callahan is dirty. That's not really news to me. Any man is able to be bought for the right price. It's just a shame that Siobhan looks up to him so much and she's about to find her mentor is nothing but a criminal himself. I wonder how much the Doyles have to pay him to do their bidding or what threats they put over his life because that's the best way to own a man. Grab him by the balls.

Turning my attention to one drawer I can't get open, I take my knife back out to pick the lock. I work at it while Noah continues snapping pictures, and finally when he's almost halfway done with the stack, I manage to get the drawer open. When something is secured like this, it means there's something of value to secure.

And I find the jackpot. There's a hidden laptop in here, which I pull out and turn on. The screen comes to life, flashing its glow and casting my shadow on the wall behind me. We have to be careful now. Daylight is almost gone, and the light in this room will most certainly draw attention, but if he's got this laptop locked away, there's a good chance there's something on here he doesn't want anyone to see.

I'm set to put my flash drive to the test with the algorithm Ronan's man programmed to break passcodes, but the judge is a naïve man, thinking his desk lock would secure his secret. The laptop isn't even password protected, a mistake many older people make these days.

I start by using the file search feature to search for anything related to the Doyles because as dumb as this man is, I feel like it will be the fastest, but it turns nothing up. So I open his browser and begin looking at his history. Suddenly, it all begins to make sense.

The judge has visited a website for a bank that deals in cryptocurrency daily for the past month. He's even dumb enough to have his laptop save his passwords, and as I peruse his bank accounts I see payments in large sums coming in with very few cashouts. The man is loaded, filthy rich from payoffs, and I bet if I take these routing numbers back to Ronan's tech man, we'll find that these payouts come from the Doyles. Together with the canceled checks and the case files Noah is currently capturing on camera, it's easy to see Callahan is filthy.

"We've got enough." I hold out my hand for my phone and he gives it back. A few more clicks of the camera shutter and I've captured all the information off his computer too. I'm done looking.

Mick might not be able to walk free with this information, but it proves the judge isn't giving him a fair trial. It also proves that the Doyles have some stake in this game. I'd think it was just a coincidence if they hadn’t attacked Siobhan outside that restaurant and parked on her apartment today. But it's too obvious now.

"So, what are they doing?" Noah asks me as he organizes the files and carries them back to the file cabinet. "What do the Doyles have to gain from framing Mick?"

"I'm not sure," I tell him. I slide the judge's computer back into his drawer and shut it. I can't lock it again, but if he knows someone was in here, he'll get scared at least, maybe walk a tighter line. I could try blackmailing him into letting Mick go free, but that may backfire. If he knows I know he's dirty, he'll tell the Doyles I know. It would start a war we don't want to fight.

It's better to take this information to Siobhan and let her fight it out with the director of public prosecutions. She'll have better luck getting the man thrown out.

"So, what do we do?" Noah shuts the cabinet as I stand up and walk toward the window.

"We get this information to Ronan and to the right people. Siobhan can help take down the judge, but it's up to us to find out how the Doyles connect to this. Mick is innocent, we both know that." I turn to him and sigh. "We have only a few weeks left to prove that."

"Let's go, then. No time to waste."

Noah and I slip out of the courthouse and shut the window. I don’t bother calling ahead. We just drive directly to Siobhan's house. I would send her the files by text, but I don't know whomay be watching her phone or monitoring her calls. I'd rather show her in person too. It's likely to come as a huge shock she won’t be ready for.

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