His situation certainly didn't look good.
As he sat on his bunk, he realized that most of his problems were of his own creation. He had decided not to tell anyone about Freeman's fishing journal. Of course if he had, he probably still would have ended up in jail, charged with interfering with a police investigation. That would have been an improvement over being charged with murder.
Jerry Baker arrived at the jail just after ten in the morning. In stark contrast to MacFarland's mood, Baker was loud and jovial. "Good news, Mac," he announced when both men sat down across from each other in the conference room. "Denver has jurisdiction over your case."
"Was that a problem?"
Baker had a lopsided grin. "You have more friends in Denver than you do in Lakewood, Mac. Right now we need all the friends we can get."
"It's that bad?"
"Everything is relative," said Baker. "There are some advantages to a Lakewood trial, but we will play the hand we are dealt. Yesterday you suggested that someone might be pulling strings from behind the curtains. Mac, I need the name of that individual!"
MacFarland shook his head. "I don't have enough evidence, Jerry. If I’m wrong, this whole thing could explode in our faces."
"How do you get the proof you need?"
"I sure as hell can't do it from in here," said MacFarland impatiently. "Get me out of here!"
Jerry Baker's ebullient mood evaporated. "I'm working on it, Mac. I'm working on it."
Baker was about to get up, when MacFarland held up a hand stopping him. "There is something that might help. The Crime Lab tech's initials on one of the reports I saw was CAB. Maybe you could talk to Pierson and see if she can follow up with this person. He might be able to explain why the evidence logs were changed."
Baker raised his eyebrows and nodded. "CAB. I'll get right on that, Mac."
Chapter 66
Monday, February 8, 1038 Hours
The Denver Detention Center was used to house suspects who were in the preliminary stages of their arrest, at least until bail was set or a trial was scheduled. MacFarland found that he was moved several times in the first week he was in jail. Most of the detainees tried not to interact with each other. Except for meals, a daily shower, and administrative interactions, there was little to do. When a visitor did arrive, it was an occasion for rejoicing.
Baker arrived at the Detention Center on Monday, at ten thirty-eight. He was somber, and MacFarland could tell that he was not here with good news.
"I tried to get the judge to lower bail, pointing out that you were actually living in the house of a Denver detective, but no dice. Someone has it in for you, Mac. Who have you pissed off?"
MacFarland glared at the lawyer and said nothing. Baker shrugged. "I have my suspicions, Mac. Ah, but I do have some good news. Well, not good news, exactly, but news nonetheless. I've been working with Pierson and Lockwood, and they followed up with the lab tech you mentioned to Pierson. It turns out CAB is actually Colleen Annabel Beltane. She had been with the Lab for about two years."
MacFarland's face lit up. "That's great news, Jerry. What did she say?"
"Nothing," said Baker.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean she is not there anymore. Sometime in December, she got dismissed from the Laboratory. Some report she falsified, though Pierson says she is suspicious of the charge. And then in January, her mother in Chicago had a stroke, so Miss Beltane is now back in Chicago taking care of her mother. We've put in several calls to her, but she has not been very cooperative.” Baker loosened his tie. "I'm trying to find someone to go to Chicago and interview her in person, but I’m not sure what we will get. Pierson told me to ask you why this person is so important to us."
MacFarland explained how he had looked at the Freeman case file two different times in December, only to discover that the evidence log had been changed. As he described the pine needle evidence, Baker became more excited. "This would clearly prove that Otto Freeman was not killed near the home," he said.
MacFarland shook his head. "Two problems with that, Jerry. First, unless we find evidence at the spot in the mountains, we can't prove that he was killed there. And it’s still possible that Mrs. Freeman killed him up there and moved the body to Denver."
Baker looked skeptical. "Why would she do that? Why not just leave the body up in the mountains?"
"It doesn't matter, Jerry. There is no reason to move the body. Logic rarely has much to do with murder, in my opinion. The important issue is, did the lab tech--Colleen Beltane--make a mistake on the pine needle evidence? My gut feeling is that she didn’t make a mistake, and got fired because she might just say something she shouldn’t. Those pine needles are the only clue we have to locate his actual place of death. I’m pretty confident that if we knew that location, the crime lab would be able to actually get enough evidence to help solve the murder. Did Beltane make a mistake or did someone else change the evidence log? I have to tell you, it isn't easy to change those logs. It requires someone who has access to all aspects of the lab. I doubt that a lab tech could do that."
"But someone in a management position might be able to," speculated Baker.
"Affirmative. Somebody in management could do it. They could also fire any technician who could testify about any such changes."
Chapter 67
Monday, February 8, 1155 Hours
MacFarland had just been brought back to his cell when the guard came back and announced that it was MacFarland's lucky day. "You're really popular today," he said.
MacFarland returned to the room, surprised to find both Pierson and Lockwood waiting for him. He greeted Pierson and gave a nod to Lockwood. "Jerry says he's been working with you," he said.
Pierson nodded. "We're doing everything we can to get you out of here. Even the DA is wishing that the case was back in Lakewood's lap. He already thinks that the evidence is shaky. They can put you at the scene of the crime, but they can't really connect you with it. Except for the knife."
"They can't connect me because I didn't commit the crime. As for the knife, you know I didn't have my set of knives."
"Yes, but Jerry says I can't very well testify about something I didn't see. All I know is you don’t have that set of knives at my house. Is there anything else that might help?”
MacFarland shrugged. “I am pretty sure Newsome knew the man who I think killed Aaron Gibbs, Freeman, and probably the Newsomes. He’s a fisherman.” He smiled. “Bozworth described him as an avid angler. Maybe Newsome had his contact information, for all I know. I wish I could search his house.”
“Well you can’t. You can’t even make bail, it seems. I just don't see what is taking them so long to set bail for you."
"Baker says that someone is deliberately holding things up."
"Did he say who?"
MacFarland looked as though he were going to give an answer, then he shook his head. "No, Jerry doesn't know who the person is."
Pierson bit her lip. "Well, maybe we can figure that out. Benny has done some digging and he found out something interesting."
MacFarland looked in Lockwood's direction.
Detective Lockwood moved closer to the table and opened up his notepad. "I started looking into who was running the Denver Crime Laboratory since it was outsourced a few years back. It turns out that is not as simple a task as it might seem. The DCL is run by Colorado Forensics Bureau, which is a division of National Forensics. They run about four labs around the country--one in Denver, one in Chicago, one in St. Louis and one in Los Angeles. It turns out that National Forensics is owned by Euclid Industries, which has a variety of businesses, most of them over in England and Europe. The major shareholder of Euclid Industries, however, is a company based out of the Cayman Islands. This company is called Cygnus International. You would be surprised at the companies that Cygnus controls."
MacFarland stared at Lockwood blankly. "None of
those companies mean anything to me," he said.
"Well, perhaps this does. One of the companies owned by Cygnus International is Consolidated Colorado Properties. I’m sure you know what that means."
MacFarland slowly smiled. If the Detention Center rules would have permitted it, he would have hugged Lockwood. As it was, all he could do was punch a fist into his open hand. "Peterson," he said. "Norris Peterson has his fingers in the Crime Lab."
Chapter 68
Thursday, February 11, 1545 Hours
MacFarland was surprised when he walked into the meeting room to see his visitor. He expected to see Baker, or perhaps Pierson.
He didn't expect to see Lockwood. Not by himself, at least.
Lockwood did not look very friendly. In fact, he looked quite hostile. MacFarland sat down and stared at him questioningly. "Why are you here?" he finally asked.
"I checked out the Newsome house again. The Lakewood police didn't know what to look for, and by the time our boys got the case, everyone assumed that all we were looking for was evidence of how the crime had been committed and who committed it. So no one bothered searching the house or Newsome's entertainment room other than in a very cursory fashion."
MacFarland listened, not sure where Lockwood was going with this line of discussion. When MacFarland didn't say anything, Lockwood continued.
"I found it in a Rolodex file. Right where you said it would be."
MacFarland blinked in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about, Lockwood?" He didn’t remember mentioning any Rolodex.
"The contact information. A card with the name of the man who you claim we should be looking for. The man with the initials WA. You said it would be in Newsome’s house.”
MacFarland opened his eyes wide in surprise. "You found out who WA is? Who is he?"
"His name is Wayne Ashland. He is from Chicago. I did a check on him when I got back to the squad room. He's got two priors on his record, mostly for aggravated assault. The Chicago PD, who I took the time to contact, says that he was picked up in conjunction with a hit on a businessman in Cicero, but they couldn't pin the crime on him.” Lockwood stared intently at MacFarland. "I haven't told Cynthia yet, MacFarland. I wanted to hear it from you first."
MacFarland shook his head as though he were trying to shake off cobwebs. "What the fuck are you talking about, Lockwood? You're not making sense, man."
Lockwood's expression was one of disgusted disbelief. "I found out what you were doing at the Newsome residence, MacFarland. Planting evidence. Trying to throw suspicion on a guy who is just dirty enough to be a suspect. And then you try to get me to be an accomplice in your fucking scheme. Well, I didn't fall for it, asshole. I got rid of the card. I should have turned it in to the Commander. That would have opened his eyes. But then Cynthia would find out, and as much as I think she should know what a shithead you are, I can't do that to her."
MacFarland could only focus on one fact. "How did you get rid of the card?" he asked incredulously. "My God, you didn’t destroy it, did you?"
"No, I didn't destroy it. But don't worry, no one will be able to trace it back to you. I'm holding on to it. But here’s how it’s going to be. I want you to stay away from Cynthia. No more contact with her. Understand, asshole? Your plan didn't work, and I have the evidence to prove it."
"I didn't have any plan, Lockwood. I didn't plant any evidence in the home. You've read my statement, haven't you? It happened exactly the way I said it happened."
Lockwood didn't say anything but continued to glare angrily at MacFarland. Then his face twisted into a frown. "You didn't put the card there?"
MacFarland's laugh was a short, bitter bark. "No, I didn't put any card there, you dumb ass. If I knew who the killer was, I would have told Pierson. All I had was initials. What makes you think that I planted the evidence?"
Lockwood fidgeted in confusion. His body seemed to relax, then shrink back into the chair. "I got a call from you. I thought it was you. Fuck, the caller said it was you, Mac."
MacFarland tried to remain calm. "Benny, every one of my calls out of here is monitored. All you have to do is check with the Admin office and they can tell you that I have made no calls. I have no doubt that someone called you. Someone wanted you to find that card."
Lockwood looked deflated, even contrite. "Who called me then? Is it the person trying to frame you for the murders?"
MacFarland laughed and stared up at the corner of the room. He smiled when he realized he was looking right into the camera. "I realized someone was trying to frame me the moment they found one of my knives at the scene. But the card? No, It’s not just me they’re trying to frame. Don’t you see it, Lockwood? Someone is trying to frame Brian Newsome."
Chapter 69
Friday, February 12, 1000 Hours
It was only after Lockwood left and MacFarland had returned to his cell that he realized once again that Lockwood had an unnatural fixation on Pierson. If he didn't know better, he would think that Lockwood was in love with Pierson! What did the young detective see in her, other than an authority figure? Not that Pierson wasn't a beautiful woman. Nor was she cold and impersonal, despite all the times he jokingly chided her chilly side, she really wasn’t. She always claimed that men believed that a woman’s looks were the only thing that got her ahead in the department, so she tried to downplay her attractiveness. She was--well, professional. And for that reason, MacFarland knew that she wouldn't have any kind of a relationship with another cop.
Which was too bad, because when he thought about it, Cynthia Pierson was really desirable.
Someone needed to take young Lockwood aside and set him straight.
On Friday, Pierson and Baker arrived at the jail to see MacFarland. MacFarland wondered where Lockwood was. Almost as soon as Pierson started speaking, MacFarland knew where the young detective was. In the dog house.
"That fucking idiot told me what he did," she said, her words pressed through gritted teeth. "God, I could have killed him. At least he had the sense to use proper procedures to recover the fucking evidence."
MacFarland cocked his head. The kid's training was clearly better than his deductive skills. "Were there any prints on the card?"
"None that we could recover," said Pierson. "Whoever put the card there used gloves, I suspect."
"Anything else that forensics could get from the card?"
"Mac, they just got the card last night. The lab is good but it doesn't work miracles."
"Well, I need a miracle," said MacFarland. His voice was resigned. Jail time takes a toll on a person's spirits.
Baker was used to dealing with people who were not used to being incarcerated, and he always thought his job included finding ways to provide encouragement to these individuals. "We just need you to hang in there another couple of days, Mac," he said. "We've got some good news. Commander Chamberlain is going to bat for you. He is trying to get a judge to grant you bail, given this new evidence."
MacFarland looked perplexed. "That's nice, but how does this evidence help clear me?"
Baker smiled grimly. "It doesn't clear you. But it gives the judge a basis to grant bail, since we now have another suspect. We showed a picture of Ashland to the employees at Newsome Jewelry and they confirmed that he was the man who had been in the store. We have enough of a connection between Ashland and Newsome to establish some doubt that you were the only one in the house that night."
MacFarland still looked dubious. "I think Chamberlain is stretching the connection. I think he's right, but I’m not sure how you convince a judge of that. Wouldn’t it be easier to get the DA to drop the charges?"
Pierson gave MacFarland a look of frustration. Her jail-side manner was not nearly as sympathetic and reassuring as Baker's was. "Give it a rest, Mac. Just be glad that we were finally able to get Chamberlain on our side. The fact that he's going to bat for you is a damn good thing."
MacFarland changed the subject. "What happen
ed to Lockwood?"
Pierson shook her head in disgust, then glancing briefly at Baker, she said, "After I found out what the asshole did with the card, I made him follow up on the lead. He ran a check on the individual. That’s when we found out Ashland had priors in Chicago. Lockwood flashed the picture around and the employees confirmed he had been there several times talking to Freeman. Then one of the employees said Ashland had been in the store two weeks earlier, demanding to see Newsome."
"How long will it be before I get out of here?" asked MacFarland.
When neither of his visitors would look him in the eye, he figured he was probably going to be stuck here for another three or four days. "It's not so bad in here," he finally said pleasantly. "Hey, on the bright side, at least I'm losing weight," he said.
Chapter 70
Saturday, February 13, 1100 Hours
It turned out that he didn't have to spend another two or three days in jail. Chamberlain arrived the next morning at eleven with a court release order. He apparently had used his position to cut through a lot of the procedural obstacles and paperwork normally associated with release. MacFarland was surprised that Chamberlain himself was getting this involved with his case. What did Chamberlain know that MacFarland did not know? He asked him.
At first Chamberlain dismissed the question, saying that he was just helping a friend.
"The Commander of Major Crimes doesn't come to the Detention Center to release a prisoner," said MacFarland. "Not even for friends. And I can’t believe I was ever on the top of your dance card."
Chamberlain looked at him, his eye drooping sadly. "You're right, Mac. I don't like to have close friendships with my officers. On the other hand, who else is a cop going to have as a friend? I guess we weren’t all that close, you're right about that. But I always considered you a good cop. You were a great detective. You're only problem was that you weren't much of a team player. You didn't rely on others to help you. When you over-reacted in court--"
The Avid Angler - The Hot Dog Detective (A Denver Detective Cozy Mystery) Page 20
