Sleepers

'You're not going in?' Carol asked, standing above me.

'I don't want to go in alone,' I said, taking my hands from my face.

'You're not alone,' she said.

'I don't want to lose, either,' I said.

'You're not going to lose.'

'It sounds like you've got all the answers,' I said, standing up and taking her by the arm.

'Maybe I do,' Carol said. 'Maybe I do.'

'Has the jury reached its verdict?' Judge Weisman asked, sitting impassively behind his bench.

'We have, your Honor,' answered the jury foreman, a stocky, bald man in a plaid shirt.

The bailiff took the folded piece of paper from the foreman and walked it over to Judge Weisman. The Judge opened the paper and looked down, his face betraying nothing.

I looked past the wall of heads and shoulders surrounding me and glanced over at John and Tommy, sitting up close to their table, their hands bunched in fists. Da

Judge Weisman nodded to the foreman, who stood in front of his seat.

'On the count of murder in the second degree, how do you find the defendant, John Reilly?' Judge Weisman asked.

The foreman bit his lips and looked around the courtroom with nervous eyes.

'Not guilty,' the foreman said.

'On the count of murder in the second degree, how do you find the defendant, Thomas Marcano?'

'Not guilty,' the foreman said.

The courtroom erupted in a thunder of applause, screams, shouts and whistles, few hearing the Judge's call to order and dismissal of charges against the defendants.

I stood up and hugged Carol.

'You did it, Shakes,' she whispered in my ear.

'We did it,' I said, holding her tight. 'We all did it.'

I looked over and saw Michael pick up his briefcase, shake hands with Da

Flashbulbs popped.

A pair of women in the middle of the room began to cry hysterically.

Four young men in the back, heading out of the room, sang the words to 'Da

An old lady behind me stayed seated and fingered the beads of her rosary, her lips moving to a series of silent prayers.

The jury members filed out of the box, some with their heads bowed, a few waving to people in the crowd.

Da

John and Tommy stood by their places, arms in the air, basking in the glory of their moment.

Michael Sillivan was already in the elevator, heading down to the lobby, his mission completed, his career over.

I took Carol by the hand and led her out of the courtroom, the loud, happy sound of the crowd following us down the corridor.

It was the sound of justice.

Spring 1980

The long table and chairs ran nearly the length of the restaurant's back room, just off the main dining hall. Pitchers of beer and bottles of Dewar's and Joh

A full month had passed since the acquittal. In those few weeks, our lives had reverted back to what they had been prior to the murder of Sean Nokes.

Carol returned to her stack of social service files, helping troubled teens and single mothers fight a system that had neither time enough nor funds enough to care.

John and Tommy went back to the streets, ru

King Be

I was promoted from clerk to reporter trainee, covering the entertainment beat. It meant I got to go to the movies for free, just like I used to do when I was a kid. Except now I didn't have to sneak my way in.

Michael was the only one of us who had made any significant change in his life. As he had promised, he had resigned from his job, three weeks after working the losing end of a can't-miss case.

I was the first to arrive and chose a seat at the center of the table, my back to the wall. A young waiter in white shirt and black bow tie came into the room and asked if I wanted anything. I looked at the line of beer and whiskey and smiled.

'This is an Irish table,' I said. 'And I'm Italian.'

'What's missing?' the waiter asked.

'Wine.'

'Red or white?'

'Both,' I said.

The waiter bumped into John and Tommy on his way out of the room. I stood up and we stared at each other for a few minutes. Then they both came around the table and squeezed me in a long, silent hug.

'I don't even know how to fuckin' thank you,' Joh

'I can't believe what you did,' Tommy said. 'And I can't believe you got away with it.'

'What do you mean?' I said. 'Don't tell me you really killed him?'

They both laughed, and loosening their hold, pulled back chairs on both sides of me.

'Besides, I had nothin' to do with it,' I said, sitting down as well. 'It was all Mikey. It was his plan.'

'I gotta tell you,' John said, pouring himself a glass of beer, when I first heard he took the case I was go

'What stopped you?'

'He was a friend,' John said. 'And if you're go

'Then, the way he was handlin' his end of the case, I thought he just sucked as a lawyer,' Tommy said. 'I started feelin' sorry for the bastard.'

'Never feel sorry for a lawyer,' Michael said, standing in front of us, a wide smile on his face.

'Get over here, counselor,' John said, grabbing Michael's arm and dragging him around the table.

Tommy rushed in from the other side and squeezed me against them as they hugged. We were nothing more than a small circle of arms and crunched faces.

'You're the real Count!' John shouted. 'Alive and well and working in downtown New York City!'

'Not after this week,' Michael said. 'This Count's on the dole now.'

'What'd you do with all that buried treasure?' Tommy asked. 'Gamble it away?'

'How do you think we paid off King Be

Carol stood in the entryway, her arms folded, laughing and shaking her head.

'What is this?' she asked. 'A gay bar?'

We turned when we heard her voice. Her hair was freshly cut and styled, and she wore a short, tight black dress, a black purse hanging off her shoulder on a long strap.

'It was,' John said. 'Till you walked in.'

'You want us to hug you too?' Tommy asked.

'How about just a hello,' Carol said.

'How about a kiss to go with the hello?' John asked.

'Deal,' Carol said, coming around to our end.

'Hurry up,' I said. 'Before the waiter comes in.'

'Yeah,' Tommy said. 'Then we're go

'I saw him on my way in,' Carol said. 'He's cute. I'd throw him a kiss.'

'That's fu

We sat around the table, ordered our di

We talked about everything we could think of, five friends with so many shared moments, afraid to let our time together come to an end. We talked about everything but the trial. And the months we had sworn never to resurrect with speech.