“How did anyone know Parker was only going to ask for fifty-thousand?”
“I assume some attorney called Paul and that’s what they worked out. All I know is I got a call asking me to represent Jackson at his bail hearing. The next day a courier delivered my retainer and the bond.”
“And you were only retained to get Jackson bailed out?”
“Uh huh.”
“Who retained you?”
“A bail bondsman in Fort Lauderdale made the arrangements.”
“Isn’t that a little unusual?”
“Not really. Out-of-towners who get arrested here usually have a lawyer at home. The lawyer doesn’t want to have to come here just for a bail hearing, so I cover it for him. I do it all the time. That’s why I thought some other attorney had negotiated the deal for Tom Jackson.”
“But if you’re being asked to represent someone at a bail hearing, I would expect you to be contacted by the attorney who represents your client? Why were you only contacted by the bondsman?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve done this for the same bondsman before. Maybe the attorney just asked the bondsman for a referral and then asked the bondsman to contact me?”
“But it still seems a little strange. I mean, don’t you normally discuss a case with the attorney before you represent his client, even for just a bail hearing?”
“Now that I think about it, it seems a little strange to me, too.”
“Do you know how the other attorney even knew Jackson was in jail and needed bailing out.”
“I assume Jackson called him from jail.”
White shook his head. “I checked. The jail log doesn’t show Jackson making or receiving any calls.”
“Then how did anyone know to make arrangements for bail?”
White started to respond as though he was thinking out loud. “We know that Jackson and Shepard had something going with someone who comes to Matlacha from the East Coast. Maybe he found out about the arrest and told whoever he works for.”
“You’d know more about that than I would.”
“How else would anyone know Jackson was in jail?”
“Maybe he’d been arrested here before. There would be a record of who represented him. Maybe someone at the jail called his counsel of record.”
“No. This was his first arrest here.”
“Ask Paul Parker. Maybe he knows.”
“That’s an idea. But there’s something else I don’t understand about your case. When you represent someone at a bail hearing, doesn’t the out-of-town lawyer usually file a notice of appearance, so you’re not stuck with the case?”
“Usually.”
“Did anyone else file an appearance in Jackson’s case?”
“No,” Lindsey said. White looked at Lindsey as though waiting for a further response. Slowly the implications of White’s statement took shape. “What do you have in mind?”
“It was almost as if someone knew there weren’t going to be any more proceedings in Jackson’s case.”
“Do you think someone already planned to kill him?”
“It’s possible. According to David Shepard, Jackson knew that some people facing drug charges were being killed after they had been released on low bail. He thought it could be because some dealer higher up the food chain was afraid that a deal had been made for testimony against the dealer.”
“Could be,” Lindsey agreed before taking another sip of her martini. “The ironic thing is that if Jackson had waited a couple more days, he would have gotten out anyway… when you had the evidence thrown out at David Shepard’s probable cause hearing.”
“Do you think it would have made any difference?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Think about it, Diane. Some attorney negotiates for a low bail without ever having been contacted by Jackson. Then you’re retained for the bail hearing, without anyone else entering an appearance to take over the case. Doesn’t that all sound a little strange.”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“Can you think of anything that might be helpful to David Shepard.”
“Like what?”
“Like anything Jackson did or said that I can use.”
Lindsey took a sip of her martini. “There is one thing that might be useful. Jackson wouldn’t initially consider any plea deal because he was sure that the U.S. attorney would take over the case and he figured he could get a better deal that he could get from Paul Parker. But that was when he thought that it would be taken over by the U.S. attorney for the Southern District. When I told him that Lee County was in the Middle District, he changed his tune. Then he wanted me to talk about a deal with Parker.”
“It sounds like he knew something that would only be useful in the Southern District. Do you have any idea what it might have been?”
“Not a clue.”
“What about the deal with Paul Parker? Do you know what Jackson was offering?”
“Just a general outline. He wouldn’t give me any specific facts until we had a deal in place.”
“What do you know?”
“He said that he knew something about some drug dealers who were murdered after they got released on bail.”
“Was Parker ready to make a deal?”
“We hadn’t finalized anything before the bail hearing.”
“But he was considering it?”
“He hadn’t said ‘no.’ But he also wasn’t willing to agree to anything until he knew exactly what he was getting in exchange.”
“What do you think your client had?”
“All he told me was that he could name names.”
“The people he got the coke from?”
“That’s the strange thing, Lucius. He swore the coke had been planted. He said they never brought coke to the house.”
“That isn’t the same as saying he never dealt coke.”
“I don’t know. But, as I said, he wouldn’t say anything until we had a deal in place with Paul.”
“What do your instincts tell you?”
Lindsey put her drink down on the coffee table and looked at White. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think he knew something about cases being fixed.”
“Jesus. Where did that come from?”
“I… I’m just reading between the lines, but… I’m sure he had something to do with drugs. I don’t know what it was, but it was something.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Every time I tried to get him to talk about drugs, he clammed up. He was scared.”
“Of his drug contacts?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. That’s how I interpreted it.”
“You don’t sound very sure.”
“I’m not.” Lindsey uncrossed her legs and leaned toward White. “Jackson uses grass. There’s no doubt about it. He’s also used heroin in the past, although we don’t know if he’s an active user. But he has no known history with cocaine.”
“Maybe he’s just never been caught.”
“Maybe. But I didn’t see any signs of it, and he claims he wasn’t using cocaine.”
“So where does that leave us.”
“I think Jackson knew something about the distribution of cocaine. He might even be involved in it in some peripheral way.”
“So he could have something to trade.”
“Yes. But I think that whatever he had would have been more valuable to a federal prosecutor in the Southern District than to Paul Parker?”
White drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. “Why was Jackson so sure his case would go federal?”
“I can’t say for sure. But he seemed to know about federal and state jurisdiction over drug cases and when the feds take over a state case. Why do you ask?”
White stood and walked to his desk. “Jackson was from West Palm Beach, and most of his life has been spent on the east coast and in the Keys.” He spoke as if he was thinking out loud more than speaking to Lindsey. “If he wasn’t worried about a federal prosecution, it mean
s he had something to trade with the U.S. attorney in the Southern District.”
“Maybe the reason Paul hadn’t taken any action on your plea proposal was that he was trying to see what the information was worth to the U.S. attorney.
“It’s a possibility.”
“I suppose. Is there anything else I should know?”
“Lucius,” Lindsey said before pausing. “Oh, hell. He’s dead. I guess it can’t hurt now.”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been who ended up dead.”
White felt his body stiffened. David was right. He did have something to be afraid of. “Why is that?”
Lindsey took another sip of her drink before responding. “When they were in jail, your client told Jackson that his father was a U.S. attorney and could get him out. Of course, that’s a pretty stupid thing to admit to your partner in crime. Jackson told him that other inmates would think he was working for his father might kill him.”
“But Jackson might have wanted to kill him felt the same reason.”
“Jackson also thought Shepard was responsible for getting them arrested.”
“Why was that?”
“Jackson swore that the cocaine found at his house, in his room no less, wasn’t his. He knew that they were being framed. He didn’t think anyone had a reason to frame him, so he was sure he had just gotten caught in a frame-up that was intended to catch Shepard.”
White leaned back and hesitated as he ran his fingers through his hair. Lindsey retrieved her glass and took another sip as she waited for White to continue. Finally, White said. “Jackson obviously had a run in with someone after he was released — the person who killed him. And he was tortured before he was killed.”
“I didn’t know that. But it would be logical to conclude that he told his killer about the relationship between Shepard and Brochette.”
“Which means that whoever killed Jackson has a good reason to kill David Shepard.”
Lindsey finished her drink and started to stand. “It seems like you have your work cut out for you.”
“Do you know anything else that might be helpful.”
“Nothing comes to mind, but I’ll call you if I think of anything else.”
“Thanks.”
“Now can I go find an eligible male?”
White chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a piece of work.”
Lindsey laughed. “Hey,” she said as they stood and she kissed him on the cheek. “I haven’t gotten laid for a month. I have to line someone up for New Year’s Eve.”
#
Paul Parker was leaning against the wall when Lindsey left White’s study.
“Merry Christmas, Paul,” Lindsey said.
“And to you, too,” Parker said, his attention focused on Lindsey’s ass as she walked away. “If I weren’t married…” he said to White.
White laughed. “She’d kill you in one night.”
“So I hear. But what a way to go.”
They both laughed.
“Got a minute, Lucius?”
“Sure, Paul. What’s a Christmas party if I can’t do some business with the State’s Attorney?”
White followed Parker back into his study and closed the door.
Parker took a long swallow of his drink. From the color of the liquid in his glass, White concluded that whatever he was drinking wasn’t watered down. White also knew Parker had been drinking heavily lately; enough so that it had become the subject of discussion in the legal community. White was tempted to suggest Parker come to one of his meetings, but the time wasn’t right.
Parker stood by the window, gazing calmly at the river and the city waterfront to the northeast. Without turning, he said, “I was born here.”
“I didn’t know that,” White said, uncertain where Parker was going.
“Yeah. When I was growing up, this place wasn’t much more than a pimple on the ass of progress,” Parker said as he took another swallow of his drink. “Now look at it.”
“No doubt about it. Things have changed.”
Parker continued to stare out the window.
White wanted to return to Leslie and the party, but couldn’t avoid thinking Parker was trying to tell him something important. “Was there something you wanted to talk about, Paul?”
Parker paused, almost as if he was coming out of a trance, before responding. “I know it’s a shitty time to bring this up, but I wanted to give you a heads up. Ballistics came back on the slugs from the Jackson kid. They’re from the same make and model as a gun owned by your client’s father.”
Damn. “Are you saying it was his gun?”
Parker slid onto the corner love seat. “We don’t know yet. Brochette’s gun is government-issue. They keep ballistics records on every gun they have. We’re checking the FBI data files. We’ll know in a couple of days.”
“You don’t think Graham had anything to do with the murder?”
“I don’t think anything, but it’s hard to imagine Graham Brochette as a suspect. Besides, the gun was reported stolen from Brochette’s car on December 1.”
White didn’t need to be reminded that December 1 was the day of David Shepard’s probable cause hearing.
Parker remained by the window, giving no indication he was ready to leave.
White understood he had something else on his mind and waited.
It took Parker a full minute to gather his thoughts and make up his mind what he was going to say. Finally, he looked directly into White’s eyes and said, “Lucius… be careful on this one.”
“Be careful of what?”
“I know these people. They’re dangerous.”
“What people, Paul? You aren’t making any sense.”
“I don’t know who’s involved. I just know there’s more to this than either of us knows.”
White waited for more. Instead, Parker returned his attention to the river and asked, “Do you ever feel like we’re all wasting our time?”
“In what way?”
“Drug cases.”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s the point?”
White looked at Parker closely, wondering how much he’d had to drink.
“We prosecute them,” Parker said, returning his attention to White. “If we get lucky enough to convict them, they’re back on the streets in a few years doing the same thing. We spend hundreds of thousands of dollars keeping them in prison. And for what? It’s a victimless crime, but it still ties up half the criminal court docket and fills half the prison cells.”
“We don’t make the laws.”
“But wouldn’t it be better if we only had to worry about the important cases?”
“You have discretion. You can decide which cases to prosecute.”
“It’s not always that easy.”
“That reminds me of something. Diane Lindsey just told me that she had only been retained for Tom Jackson at his bail hearing, but she didn’t know what attorney represented him. The jail logs don’t show him making any calls. Do you know who told anyone that Jackson had been arrested?”
Parker turned away slowly and resumed his study of the river. “I’m sure it wasn’t anyone in my office.”
#
The musicians had departed. The caterers and bartenders were packing the last of the china and crystal glassware.
Amidst the holiday decorations, Lucius White leaned his elbows against the railing on the deck of his apartment. He was only vaguely aware that Leslie was suddenly standing beside him. They stood together in silence, gazing into the night.
White started to say something when the door opened and Horse and Sandra joined them.
After a moment of shared silence, Horse said, “Harry would have enjoyed the party.”
White forced a smile. “Harry does like parties.”
“We’ll have another one for Harry when he gets better,” Leslie said.
Sandra looked at Horse as if asking, “What should I say?
” Horse shook his head imperceptibly. Sandra leaned against him and said nothing.
Another minute passed before Horse said, “Well, I guess we should be going.” Then, turning to White, he asked, “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“I have a meeting with Manny Rodriguez.”
Horse raise an eyebrow. Meetings with Manny Rodriguez were always important.
“We need help. If there’s a drug connection, Manny is the man to find out about it.”
18.
The Three Flags Marina was named for the flags flown by sport fishermen when they’ve scored a triple by landing all three of the major billfish: a swordfish, a sailfish, and a marlin. It was located on the Manatee River just west of Interstate 75 and approximately midway between White’s office and his friend’s home in Tampa. Mutually inconvenient, as Rodriguez had described it.
The warmth of the afternoon was beginning to yield to a cooling evening breeze. A jazz combo was setting up on a stage in the corner of the lounge. White was waiting at the bar when Manuel Rodriguez came in, alone, and signaled White to a table by the window overlooking the docks.
They first met when Rodriguez was charged with money laundering. He owned more than three-hundred bill changing machines located in laundromats, self-serve car washes and video arcades throughout Florida. It was a near-perfect cover for couriers carrying large amounts of cash, and it justified the large cash deposits that banks were required to report to the government. Money laundering was undoubtedly the least of his wrongful acts, but it was the only one the U.S. attorney believed he could prove. The government lost the case to a hung jury, and White had been Rodriguez’s attorney ever since. They were now more than just attorney and client; they were friends who exchanged favors on a regular basis.
Rodriguez had no illusions about his business. “We do what we do,” he observed on more than one occasion. Nonetheless, with some exceptions relating to his own business, he respected the law and frowned on the misdeeds of the common criminal element of society.
Rodriguez smiled and handed White a package wrapped in silver foil. “A little something to be remembered by during the holidays.” White smiled as he retrieved a package from his briefcase and handed it to Rodriguez.
At first, the annual ritual seemed awkward. They were friends, sometimes close friends, but only within limits. During the year-long investigation, and the three months of Rodriguez’s first trial, they had come to know each other well. Each knew he could count on the other when necessary, but there was much they could never share. Their annual exchange of presents allowed them to confirm that they had a personal relationship that transcended their business ties.
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