A Matter of Life and Death

by Phillip Margolin

  “I still do.”

  “There may be a tie-in between the Ortega fight and Mrs. Carasco’s murder. You’ve seen the YouTube video of Lattimore’s fight with Ortega, so you know Lattimore killed him. What’s not public knowledge is something that was discovered at the crime lab. Hand wraps like a boxer uses were found in a garbage can on Carasco’s property. Mrs. Carasco’s blood was on the wraps, but so was Mr. Ortega’s.

  “If Lattimore didn’t kill Mrs. Carasco, then he was set up by someone who got those hand wraps, and the most likely place would have been where the illegal fight was held.”

  Macklin frowned. “You’re saying that someone involved with the illegal fight was also involved with Mrs. Carasco’s murder?”

  “Yeah. And if the judge is behind his wife’s murder, it means that he’s also involved in some way with the illegal fights.”

  “Have the cops figured out who’s running the fights or where they’re held?”

  “Not that I know, but I’m not part of the investigation or prosecution now that I’m a witness.”

  “Can you find out?”

  “I can try, but I won’t do anything that puts me in danger. I’m taking a big enough risk talking to you.”

  “I can accept that. And you’ll tell me if you learn anything useful?”

  “You can count on it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Karl Tepper called Tony Carasco and told him to bring the money to a parking lot in downtown Portland at ten o’clock. Tepper told Stacey he’d be back for her once he got the money, and they would drive back to San Francisco. Then he opened the door to Stacey’s apartment.

  Tepper’s mood changed from elation to horror when a fist the size of a ham mashed his nose. Tepper staggered backward into the apartment. A giant in a ski mask tased the pimp. Stacey screamed. The giant grabbed Stacey’s cheeks and squeezed.

  “Make another sound and I’ll rip your tongue out.”

  Two more men wearing ski masks rushed into the apartment, and the giant locked the door behind them. He turned to one of the men, who was only slightly smaller.

  “Take her into the living room.”

  The man grabbed Stacey’s arm and hustled her onto an armchair.

  “Help me move this piece of shit,” the giant said to a light heavyweight in a leather jacket.

  The light heavyweight slapped tape over Tepper’s mouth. The giant grabbed the collar of Tepper’s jacket, dragged him along the floor, and dumped him in the middle of the living room a few feet from Stacey.

  “You’re supposed to see what we do to your friend,” the giant told Stacey. “So, get comfortable and enjoy the show.”

  While the giant stood next to her, the other men started beating Tepper with police batons. Stacey heard bones crack and closed her eyes to block out the blood and horror. The giant smacked her hard.

  “This is educational, bitch. If you don’t want us to start on you, keep your eyes on your boyfriend.”

  The men took turns beating Tepper until he was weeping. When the giant told his men to stop, he turned to Stacey.

  “Do you understand that we’re serious people?”

  Stacey was too frightened to speak, so she nodded.

  “That’s good. Now, a friend trusted you, and you betrayed him. He believes that you have videos, audios, or other items that could embarrass him. Think before you answer. A lie will result in some of the same punishment your greedy friend suffered. You don’t want to know what will happen to you if you lie more than once. So, do you have anything that could embarrass our friend?”

  Stacey nodded vigorously.

  “Is it in this apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Show me where it is,” the giant said.

  Stacey got up unsteadily. When they were in the bedroom, Stacey pointed at a bookshelf that was across from the bed.

  “The camera is hidden behind the books on the top shelf, and the recordings are in a hollow space in the books on either side of the camera.”

  Even though he was tall, the giant had to stand on his toes to see the camera, which pointed at the bed through a gap between two books on the top shelf. The giant opened the books. They had been hollowed out. Inside them were several DVDs and audiocassettes. The giant grabbed them and tossed the books on the floor. While the giant’s back was turned, Stacey thought about going for the gun in her end table, but she was too scared to try for it.

  “Is this everything?”

  “Yes, I swear.”

  “You know what will happen if you’re lying?”

  “It’s everything.”

  “It’d better be,” the giant said as he scooped up the recordings. Then he turned to Stacey. “If you pulled this shit with me, you’d look like something out of a horror movie, but the man you betrayed is merciful.”

  The giant grabbed her arm and led her back into the living room. Tepper was moaning in agony. The giant knelt next to him and made eye contact.

  “I checked with some friends in the City by the Bay. They told me you’re a small-time punk. My friends owe me. If you ever show your face in Oregon or bother anyone in Oregon again, my friends will pay off their debt by making this beating seem like a spa treatment. Do you understand?”

  Tepper nodded. Stacey collapsed on the sofa and tried to stop herself from shaking.

  “Put this turd in the trunk of their car,” the giant told his accomplices before turning to Stacey.

  “Your boyfriend stays in the trunk until you’re out of Oregon and in California, Washington, or wherever you decide to go. When you’re over the border, do what you want with your pimp. If you go to a hospital, tell the doctor that your boyfriend was in a car accident. Under no circumstances do you try to put this on us. Understand?”

  Stacey nodded.

  “Good girl. We’re going now. Wait twenty minutes, then you can go.”

  The two men carried Tepper outside, and the giant followed. One of the men returned and tossed Stacey the car keys. Stacey thought she might throw up, but she was too scared to run for the bathroom. Instead, she watched the clock tick off twenty minutes.

  Stacey had packed for the return trip to California when she thought she would be leaving with Tepper and the money he’d extorted from the judge. As soon as the last second passed, she grabbed her valise and ran to the car. Washington was the closest state. She found the location of the nearest Washington hospital and headed north.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  When Loretta Washington gave Robin and Amanda her draft of the juror questionnaire, they edited it and sent it to Judge Wright. The day after Robin and Amanda visited the Jungle Club, a pool of jurors was summoned to Judge Wright’s courtroom and given the questionnaires. The next day, a messenger delivered the defense copies of the completed questionnaires to Barrister, Berman, and Lockwood, where Robin, Amanda, Jeff, and Loretta started ranking each juror in order of desirability.

  Robin and Amanda spent three days questioning the jurors individually in Judge Wright’s courtroom. Each side was allowed to exclude an unlimited number of jurors for cause. Cause could be shown if a juror had formed an opinion about Joe’s guilt or innocence, if the juror was opposed to the death penalty or would always opt for death if a person was convicted of murder, if a juror had a prejudice against an African American defendant, or for any other reason that made it obvious that the juror could not be fair.

  In addition to an unlimited number of challenges for cause, each side in an Oregon death penalty trial was allowed fifteen peremptory challenges. These challenges could be made for any reason and were used when an attorney could not show cause but did not want a juror sitting on his client’s case. A defense attorney who had a gut feeling about a potential juror might use a peremptory challenge to exclude the juror even if she claimed that she could be fair to both sides. Similarly, a prosecutor might use a peremptory challenge to exclude an attorney who practiced criminal defense, who said he could be unbiased if selected as a juror.r />
  Late Friday afternoon, after Robin and Vanessa used the last of their peremptory challenges and made no further challenges for cause, Judge Wright seated a panel of twelve jurors and six alternates. A death penalty trial followed by a sentencing hearing could go on for some time. In a long trial, it was not unusual for one or more jurors to become ill or to be excused for a valid reason. The alternates would hear the evidence the selected jurors would hear, but they would not take part in the deliberations unless a seated juror was excused.

  Judge Wright admonished the jurors to avoid internet, television, radio, or newspaper accounts of Joe’s case and told them that they could not talk about the case with anyone, including their families. Then he adjourned court until Monday morning.

  Robin was exhausted when she returned to her office a little before five. As soon as she walked into the waiting room, her receptionist told Robin that Jeff wanted to see her.

  “How did jury selection go?” Jeff asked when Robin had slumped onto a chair across from him.

  “Okay,” replied Robin. “I’ve got three jurors I’m pretty sure won’t be able to sentence someone to death, so I’m feeling good about going to the sentencing phase if Joe is convicted, but I don’t have a real feel for how we’ll do in the trial.”

  “You look like you’re wiped out.”

  “I am, but I have to work on my opening statement. Amanda’s going to meet me Sunday afternoon to critique it.”

  “You’re in no condition to create a great opening statement. You’ll fall asleep unless you get some chow. Let me take you to dinner, and I’ll tell you what I found out about Kevin Bash.”

  “Tell me now.”

  “Only if you’ll promise to get some nourishment. A dead girlfriend is no fun.”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay. Remember what Erika Stassen did for a living before she moved back to Portland?”

  “She investigated tax fraud for the IRS.”

  “Right. So, I asked Mark to ask her if she could help us out. She got back to me while you were in court. Kevin Bash is listed as the president of Irongate Inc. It’s a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands. Irongate owns several properties in Oregon. One is a farm in Washington County.”

  Robin perked up. “We have to go out there. We can take pictures and show them to Joe to see if he can ID it as the place where the fight was held.”

  Jeff nodded. “I’ll do that over the weekend. Right now, I’m going to feed you. Then you’re going to get a good night’s sleep.”

  Robin was going to argue with Jeff, but she was too tired. Jeff saw the fight go out of the woman he loved, so he told her the information he had saved for last.

  “There’s one more thing Erika discovered. Anthony Carasco is a member of Irongate’s board of directors.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Jeff spent Saturday in the field interviewing witnesses. Robin spent Saturday morning in her office with Loretta, reviewing the set of jury instructions her associate had prepared. Robin could see that there was something worrying Loretta, but she decided Loretta would tell her what was bothering her if she wanted to. The moment came when they were on the last instruction.

  “Can I ask you something?” Loretta said.

  “Sure.”

  “How do you do it, take on a client when he could die?”

  Robin had asked herself that same question the first time she agreed to take a capital case.

  “Someone has to,” she answered.

  “But you don’t. You can always pass.”

  “True, but that would be cowardly. There are innocent people who’ve ended up on death row because they had incompetent representation. I take being a lawyer very seriously, and I have a duty to make sure the system works. The case where the system has to work as perfectly as it can is a case where a client can die.”

  “I don’t know if I could stand the pressure, knowing that a person’s life depended on me being perfect,” Loretta said.

  “You will never be perfect, Loretta. All you can do is try as hard as you can to do everything you can think of. But you will always screw up somewhere along the line. That’s why you have a cocounsel; someone who, hopefully, will tell you when you’re going astray. And even then, with the best representation and the greatest will, you will fuck up, because humans aren’t perfect. So, you just try as hard as you can and hope for the best.”

  “Have you ever seen an execution?” Loretta asked.

  “No. And I hope I never will. And if it’s a client of mine, I would pray that he was really guilty and that I did everything I could for him. And with that, I am ordering you to go home so I can start working on my opening statement.”

  * * *

  On Sunday morning, Jeff programmed in the address Erika Stassen had discovered for the Washington County farm. The first part of the journey was on Highway 26, one of the main routes to the coast, but Jeff’s GPS soon sent him into sparsely populated farmland. The weather was raw, and a light rain started falling when Jeff turned onto a two-lane country road that had been ravaged by the cruel winter weather. Stands of trees flanked the road as it wound up into low-lying hills. The road was pitted with potholes that caused Jeff’s ride to bounce. This coincided with Joe Lattimore’s description of the final part of his ride in the windowless van. When Jeff neared the top of one of the hills, the navigation system told him that he was less than a quarter mile from his destination.

  Jeff spotted a dirt track bordered by densely packed trees and bushes. He drove in a few car lengths, turned the car so it faced the road, and parked. His camera was in the back seat. He grabbed it and got out. The rain had started to come down hard. Jeff pulled up the hood on his rain jacket before hiking through the woods to the top of a hill that overlooked the farm. Jeff used his telephoto lens to scan the terrain. A driveway led off the country road through a white clapboard fence. Beyond the fence was a farmhouse, outbuildings, and a barn. An old pickup truck and a new-model, jet-black Mercedes-Benz stood in a gravel parking lot next to the barn. Jeff searched the property for any signs of life, but he didn’t spot any people or livestock. Then a door in the side of the barn opened, and two men walked out.

  Jeff had searched the Web for information on Kevin Bash. His picture was on the website for his car dealership, and Jeff recognized him right away. Jeff didn’t need a picture to identify Andre Rostov. Bash was well built, but he looked like a child next to the massive human who was standing beside him.

  Jeff snapped a series of pictures as Bash and Rostov ran through the downpour to their vehicles. It dawned on Jeff that the road from the farm would pass his car. He hustled down the hill and jumped in the driver’s seat. He could hear the cars coming as he started his engine and backed the car deeper into the woods. The Mercedes and the pickup drove by seconds after his car was out of sight of the road.

  Jeff took a deep breath and leaned back against the headrest. He had no desire to meet Rostov or Bash, but he did want to find out where they were going.

  Jeff let the men get enough of a head start so he wouldn’t be seen on the deserted country road. He lost sight of the truck and the Mercedes until he topped a rise. The men were following the route he’d taken from Portland, so he gambled that was where they were headed and didn’t speed up until he reached Highway 26.

  It didn’t take Jeff long to catch up to the two vehicles. When they were on the outskirts of the city, Jeff was faced with a choice. The Mercedes kept going toward Portland, but Rostov turned off and headed into another rural area.

  Jeff knew that Kevin Bash worked at his Mercedes dealership. He could follow him home anytime. So, he decided to tail Rostov. The pickup truck drove past poorly kept-up homes and trailer parks before turning into the driveway of a house with a lawn that looked like a retirement home for weeds and an exterior that had not seen paint since the Dark Ages.

  Jeff memorized the house number as he cruised past. Then he parked down the street and watched the house until some
teenage boys, who had been sitting on a front porch, started walking toward the car. Jeff headed back to town.

  * * *

  Robin and Amanda looked up when Jeff walked into the apartment.

  “How’s the opening coming?” he asked as he shed his water-spotted jacket.

  “We’re done. We just finished up a review of the jury instructions, and we’re talking about how we’re going to cross-examine Vanessa’s witnesses. How did your secret mission go?”

  Jeff told the women about the farm and following Bash and Rostov.

  “I was just at the jail. I showed Joe the pictures I took. He says that one of the men is the giant who drove him to the fight and Kevin Bash is the man who ran it. He’s not certain, because he was there at night, but he said that this could be where they held the illegal fight. He remembered the gravel parking lot and the field where some other cars were parked, and the door at the side of the barn is where he remembered it being.”

  “Good work,” Robin said.

  “We want to get your opinion on something,” Amanda said.

  “Shoot.”

  “We’ve been debating whether we should call Joe as a witness. What do you think?”

  Jeff’s brow furrowed as he weighed the pros and cons. Contrary to what most people thought, it was usually a mistake to call a defendant to the stand in a criminal case. The state had the burden of proving that the defendant committed the crime he was accused of committing, and the state’s burden was very high. To vote guilty, a juror could not have a single reasonable doubt about the defendant’s guilt.

  A defendant had no obligation to prove he was innocent. That meant that the defense was never required to put on evidence. If the state’s case was shaky but Joe made a bad impression when he testified, he could erase any reasonable doubts harbored by a juror. The only time the defense had to call a defendant to the stand was when he was the only person who could explain away devastating evidence that would lead to a conviction.