Or kidnap me and make me tell them what I know, which is zip.”
“They may plan to simply let us do what we’re doing, searching for it.”
“And rush in when we find it and, what, kill us all?” said Davenport skeptically.
“Perhaps,” said Decker. “Or perhaps not.”
“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up,” said Davenport, clearly frustrated.
“Investigations are not always simple,” retorted Jamison. “The case we worked in Burlington took a ninety-degree turn, but it took a ton of legwork and asking questions to get us there. And what seemed unimportant at first turned out to be critical.”
“Okay, but Decker, your theory is riddled with holes,” said Davenport.
“It is full of holes,” admitted Decker, drawing a surprised look from Davenport. “That’s why it’s only a theory. It may well be disproved later on. But we have to run down the possibility anyway.”
Mars looked at him nervously. “So you think someone may still try to come after me?”
Decker considered this. “If they’re following us, which they may very well be, they would know that we’re searching for answers too. If they saw us at the bank and deduced what we were doing, they also know we left the place empty-handed.”
“So they might simply let us keep going until we do find something,” said Mars slowly.
“Right.”
“They have long memories,” said Mars. “If this goes back before I was born, we’re talking over forty years ago.”
“Well, I have a long memory too,” said Decker.
“Amen to that,” replied Mars. He looked up and saw Mary Oliver walk into the lobby.
“Mary, over here,” he said, rising and motioning to Oliver, who was heading toward the front desk. She was wearing a beige pantsuit and a smile.
“You look happy about something,” prompted Davenport.
“The state of Texas has agreed to the maximum of twenty-five thousand dollars in compensation to you, Melvin.”
“Well, it’s something,” said Mars.
“And I’m filing suit against them for what happened to you in prison. To the tune of fifty million dollars.”
Mars stared dumbstruck at her. “Are you kidding me?” he finally said.
“Melvin, you almost died. This was a conspiracy that included guards who were representatives of the state’s correctional system. And I discovered that these same guards have had other lawsuits filed against them and no disciplinary action was ever taken against them. That constitutes, at the least, willful negligence on the part of the state.”
Decker said, “This was the strategy you mentioned before?”
She nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Decker looked at Mars. “Well, at least monetarily fifty mil will make up for your not being able to play in the NFL.”
Oliver added, “Look, I won’t blow smoke up your butt. It’s a long shot and there’s no guarantee, but I’m going to give it my best effort.”
Mars was speechless for a few moments. Then he hugged her. “Thank you, Mary. Thank you.”
They sat down and the others let Mars compose himself.
No one noticed the three state troopers and plainclothes detective heading their way until they were right on top of them.
Decker spotted them and said, “Can I help you, Officers?”
They ignored him and surrounded Mars. “Mr. Mars, please stand up,” said the plainclothes, after he flashed his badge and told them he was a homicide detective.
“What? Why?” said Mars.
“Please stand up,” said the man more firmly.
“What is this about?” said Oliver, who did stand. “I’m his lawyer.”
“And you’ll get a chance to talk to your client. Just not now. Please stand, Mr. Mars. Last time I’ll ask.”
Mars glanced at Decker, who nodded. Mars stood and automatically put his hands behind his back. The plainclothes motioned to an officer, who came forward and handcuffed him.
The plainclothes said, “You are under arrest in connection with the murders of Roy and Lucinda Mars.” Then he read Mars his Miranda rights.
“He was pardoned for that!” snapped an incredulous Oliver.
“His pardon has been revoked. That’s why we’re here.”
“They can’t do that!” said Oliver.
The plainclothes handed her a sheaf of papers. “The court order doing just that. Let’s go, Mr. Mars.”
As they led Mars away, Oliver called after him, “Melvin, I’ll see you at the station.” She then read down the first page of the document.
“What does it say?” asked Jamison as she rose.
Oliver’s face paled as she finished skimming. She shot a glance at Decker.
He sighed. “I didn’t believe they would do this,” he said quietly.
“Do what?” snapped Jamison.
“You knew?” demanded Oliver.
“I suspected.”
“Will someone please tell us what the hell is going on?” barked Davenport, who had risen and was standing next to Jamison.
Decker said, “Our investigation has shown that it’s entirely probable that the Montgomerys were paid off to lie about Charles Montgomery killing Roy and Lucinda. That confession was the only reason Melvin was released and pardoned.” He looked at Oliver. “Am I right?”
She nodded but said nothing.
“Oh my God,” said Jamison.
“That means—” began Davenport.
Decker interrupted, “That means that as far as the state of Texas is concerned Melvin killed his parents. Hence his pardon was revoked.”
“How did they find out what we discovered?” asked Jamison.
“Texas sent its own people to Alabama to investigate Montgomery,” replied Decker. “And we talked about our suspicions and findings with the Alabama authorities. They must have relayed that to the Texas folks.”
“But he had nothing to do with the Montgomerys lying about this,” said Jamison.
“That doesn’t matter legally in Melvin’s case,” said Oliver. “It’s as if nothing has changed now. No confession, the sentence is reinstated. The allocution Montgomery made is no good if he lied.”
Jamison turned, horrified, to look at Decker. “So our work has sent him back to prison and maybe to his death?”
Decker didn’t answer. He had pulled out his phone and was heading toward the motel exit where a minute before Mars had left on his way back to prison. As he watched Mars being driven off, he punched in a number. After two rings there was an answer.
“Agent Bogart, it’s Decker. I’ll understand if you tell me to go to hell, but I have a big favor to ask.”
CHAPTER
38
ALL RISE,” SAID the burly bailiff.
All the persons in the courtroom rose, including the only one wearing shackles.
Judge Matthews, a wizened, balding man with a lumpy Adam’s apple, appeared through a doorway behind the bench, ascended the stairs, and sat down in his chair.
“Be seated,” commanded the bailiff, and everyone returned to their respective chairs.
Mary Oliver sat next to the shackled Mars. Decker, dressed in the suit he had bought while shopping with Jamison, sat on the other side of him.
The state prosecutor held forth at the other counsel table. He was in his midfifties, with a patch of soft white hair that didn’t come close to covering his pink scalp. His shirt collar was stiff from being overstarched, and this attribute neatly matched the man’s demeanor. He had a file in front of him labeled Mars, Melvin. He was silently moving his lips, as though rehearsing what he was about to say.
In the second row of the courtroom sat Davenport and Jamison. There was a goodly number of reporters present because word had gotten round that Mars had been arrested. There were also a few dozen gawking local citizens to round out the audience.
The judge eyed both counsel tables and their respective occupants, cleared his throat, and said, “The def
endant filed the motion, so let’s hear from him first.”
Oliver rose and straightened the jacket of her two-piece suit and adjusted her shirt cuffs.
“Your Honor, the state’s actions in this matter can be summed up as follows: It wrongly convicted my client, Mr. Mars, locked him up for over twenty years and very nearly executed him until it saw the error of its ways when presented with evidence of his innocence. It then granted him his liberty and with it a full pardon, and also ordered that he be paid the maximum compensation for his erroneous incarceration, not that twenty-five thousand dollars can make up for over two decades in prison.” She took a breath and seemed to swell with righteous indignation. “And now, shortly after granting him his freedom, it has unilaterally revoked his pardon and his liberty, placed him under arrest, and he now sits shackled before us. All of this was accomplished without benefit of a trial, or representation by counsel, thus denying him due process. That is why I filed the habeas corpus petition, because it is clear beyond doubt that the state is illegally detaining my client. I therefore ask that he be released forthwith, and that both the terms of his pardon and compensation be fully honored and enforced by this court.”
Oliver put a hand on Mars’s shoulder and added, “Anything less would be a travesty of justice and establish an unsustainable and dangerous precedent should the state be allowed to unilaterally renege on its agreement with my client, since we may assume that it will try to do so with other defendants in the future.”
“Understood,” said Judge Matthews. He turned to the state’s prosecutor. “Mr. Jenkins, counsel has made some excellent points. I don’t like the idea of the state going back on its word. It would wreak havoc with the system if defense counsel could not rely on agreements provided to them by your office.”
Jenkins rose, buttoned his jacket, smoothed down an errant strand of hair, glanced disapprovingly at Mars and Oliver, and then turned his attention fully to the judge.
“Your Honor,” he drawled. “The action which the state took was the only one, in good conscience, that it could take. While I’m the first to admit that the situation here is a little unusual—”
“That’s an understatement,” interjected Judge Matthews.
“Be that as it may, there was only one reason that Mr. Mars was released from prison.” Here he paused and held up a single finger for emphasis. “That was because another man, Charles Montgomery, now dead, executed by the state of Alabama for assorted heinous crimes, confessed to the murders for which Mr. Mars was previously convicted. After due investigation, it appeared that Mr. Montgomery did indeed have information and knowledge of the crimes which only the true perpetrator would have possessed. Now, due in large measure to the work performed by the FBI, it appears clear that Mr. Montgomery, and his wife, who, significantly enough, was likely murdered to cover up what went on, were paid a great sum of money to make that confession. Thus it is almost a certainty that Mr. Montgomery had no more to do with the murders of Roy and Lucinda Mars than you or I, Your Honor. Thus the state’s position is that the original conviction of Mr. Mars was right and just, and his incarceration at this time is warranted and legally proper.”
Jenkins glanced once more at Mars with an expression of cold contempt. “And let me add that the state of Texas will vigorously explore whether Mr. Mars was in any way connected to what amounts to a bald-faced attempt to deceive the criminal justice system of Texas, as he stood to benefit the most from this so-called confession by Mr. Montgomery.”
Oliver jumped to her feet. “There is not a shred of evidence that my client was in any way involved with this, Your Honor.”
Jenkins bristled. “Well, the fact that this now discredited confession came at the eleventh hour prior to the defendant’s scheduled execution seems an awfully large, and well-timed, coincidence.”
Oliver gave him an incredulous look and said in a tone dripping with sarcasm, “Yes, I’m sure that Mr. Mars waited until minutes before they were to put him to death before arranging from death row for this miracle confession to come along in the nick of time and save him.”
“There is no need to take that unprofessional tone,” snapped Jenkins.
“Regardless,” said Oliver, addressing the judge, “the state had ample time to investigate the veracity of Mr. Montgomery’s claims. It did so with the result that a full pardon was issued to my client. If the state is now allowed to go back on this agreement, the sanctity of the pardon will have been destroyed and no person may rely in the future on the state doing so without fear that it will once again renege.”
Jenkins said, “But the state clearly has a vested interest in seeing that convicted murderers are not set loose upon the public.”
Judge Matthews interjected, “Well, it appears to me that the state got itself into this mess, Mr. Jenkins. And if it can unilaterally reject its own agreements, then Ms. Oliver is right in saying that makes the entire pardoning system untenable.”
Jenkins spread his hands. “All we desire, Your Honor, is the ability to more fully investigate the matter. And during that time the defendant’s incarceration is duly warranted. The pros certainly outweigh the cons. If he is innocent then no harm will have been done. And if he is guilty, which we believe that he is, he will not have the opportunity to flee. He has no ties to the community, and we consider him a likely flight risk.”
Oliver retorted, “He has no passport, no valid ID of any kind, and, thanks to the state of Texas, no job or money. I hardly consider him a flight risk.”
“And the Mexican border is only a hop, skip, and a jump away,” countered Jenkins. “And while it is porous for those seeking to enter this country, it is equally porous for those seeking to do the opposite.”
Judge Matthews looked uncertain as he stared down at them. He glanced at Oliver. “Well, I can’t say I totally agree with Mr. Jenkins’s position, but it seems to me that there’s no harm in allowing the state to retain custody of Mr. Mars while the investigation is ongoing.”
At that moment Decker stood and all eyes in the courtroom turned to his towering presence. Decker felt the mingled gazes, and his gut was lurching and his nerves were fraying, because he just didn’t like interacting with other people.
And he certainly didn’t like having to be less than completely honest with a judge. But this was the plan he had come up with, and he had no choice but to follow it through.
“With your permission, Your Honor, may I speak?” he asked.
“And you are?” said Judge Matthews expectantly.
Decker rubbed a bead of sweat off his face. He could feel the wetness under his armpits. He suddenly felt nauseous. He briefly wondered if he might faint right here in court. In a slightly tremulous voice he said, “Amos Decker. I’m here representing the FBI.”
Jenkins quickly said, “I don’t see that the FBI has any standing to be involved in a case that is completely under the jurisdiction of the state of Texas.”
Decker kept his gaze on the judge. “The FBI has become involved in this case, Your Honor. Indeed, as counsel has already pointed out, it was our efforts that led to the doubts being cast on Mr. Montgomery’s confession.”
“But—” began Jenkins. However, Judge Matthews held up his hand.
“That’s a valid point. Let Agent Decker finish what he was saying.”
For the first time in his life Decker was suddenly seeing everything in the most vivid shade of blue even though no one in the room had died. He closed his eyes.
“Agent Decker?” prompted Judge Matthews as Jenkins snorted and looked derisively at Decker.
Do it, Decker. Right now. Fill the A-gap. Make the tackle. Now.
Decker opened his eyes. In a firm, confident voice he said, “The FBI believes that this case is far more complicated than it first appeared. We also believe that Mr. Mars is innocent.”
“Based on what?” interrupted Jenkins testily.
“Based on discoveries made in our ongoing investigation. We believe that this case may in
volve forces that operate across state lines, bringing it solidly into the purview of the Bureau.”
Judge Matthews said, “And is the court to be provided the results of your discoveries, Agent Decker?”
“My superior, Special Agent Ross Bogart, heads up a special
The Last Mile Page 26
