Hounded

by David Rosenfelt

  “In fact, let’s get it started.” I call Hike Lynch, the lawyer who helps me out when we actually do take on a case. He is an outstanding lawyer, but as downbeat a human being as there is in the hemisphere. Fortunately, I get his machine, and his message is, “This is Hike. Assuming I’m not dead, I’ll call you back. If I am, I won’t. Whatever.”

  I assume that he’s alive, and leave word for him to be at the office for a meeting tomorrow at noon. I then call Sam Willis and tell him the same, and for good measure I throw in Willie Miller.

  I also call Edna, but don’t reach her either. I leave a message for her about the meeting. I feel guilty that I never called to ask how the tournament came out, but with all that has been going on, it just slipped my mind. I say on the message that I want to hear all about it, and to some degree I do. I just have a lot of other, more important stuff to worry about right now.

  I leave it up to Laurie to call Marcus Clark, for a couple of reasons. For one, she is the only person who can understand the few words that he says. But more importantly, like everyone besides Laurie, I am scared to death of Marcus. I actually think he could beat me up, or much worse, through the phone.

  Everybody we reach agrees to meet at my office at noon. It’s going to be a long night tonight; I basically have no idea why Pete was arrested, or what any of the facts are. We’re going to have to hit the ground running; the first days of an investigation are usually the most important. But I can’t get started until I have information, and that won’t happen until tomorrow at the earliest.

  “We’re going to be really busy,” I say to Laurie. I then add, pointedly, “Both of us.”

  She knows that I’m talking about the situation with Ricky. My role in this is obvious, and so is Laurie’s. She’s my lead investigator. Ricky’s presence is going to be difficult to accommodate with all this going on.

  “We’ll make it work, Andy.”

  “So which one of us can’t attend the meeting tomorrow? One of us has to be home, and we can’t bring him with us. Taking him to a sports bar to meet Vince is shaky enough; having him sit in on a meeting about defending the man charged with killing his father would be a bit much.”

  “We’ll have to arrange some kind of child care. Andy, these next few months can affect his entire life.”

  “Okay … then why don’t we have the meeting here instead of my office?” I ask.

  “That’s a great idea. Thank you; I’ll make the calls.”

  I shake my head. “I’ll take care of it. I won’t be doing much sleeping anyway.”

  Pete’s a big boy who can take care of himself, but I still feel for him. He’s in a position that is as scary as it gets, and no one is immune to the fear.

  I know what he is feeling, but I don’t know what he is thinking. Most importantly, I don’t yet know what he knows.

  It is definitely going to be a long night.

  I’m out of bed at six a.m.

  I should be tired, because I’ve slept very little, but I’m not. I’m anxious to get started; it’s not a feeling I’ve had concerning work in a very long time.

  Laurie and Ricky are both still asleep. So I head out to the jail, and on the way I call Hike to give him his first assignment. I ask him to find out who has been assigned to the case in the prosecutor’s office. A police captain getting charged with murder does not happen every day, and the media is already all over it, so I assume it will be one of the senior people. But I’m going to need to deal with them very soon, so I have to know who it is.

  I’m not unfamiliar with the jail or the process, but this time it’s a little different. Defense attorneys rank just below terrorists in the eyes of most law enforcement officers, and the ones who man the jail are no exception.

  So the desk staff delights in making things as difficult as possible, with today being a notable exception. Once the sergeant hears that I am Pete’s attorney, I am treated almost like a human being. He doesn’t go so far as to offer me coffee, but he does tell me where the vending machine is. It’s a machine I’m already familiar with.

  Within ten minutes, I’m brought into a room to talk with Pete. It’s record time; I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to see a client in under an hour before. The other departure from protocol is that Pete is not cuffed or restrained in any way; he’s simply sitting at a table in a private room, waiting for me. There is an armed guard who brings me there, and one stationed outside the room, but it is still a sign of deference and concern for Pete that even I appreciate.

  Usually, in first meetings like this, I can see the fear etched in the client’s face, often accompanied by bewilderment, and sometimes embarrassment. I don’t see that in Pete; his attitude is one part concern, three parts determination.

  He gets to one area of the concern right away. “How’s Ricky doing?”

  “Good,” I say. “Seems like a terrific kid, and pretty much likes everyone except me.”

  “You’re an acquired taste.”

  “So I’ve been told. Talk to me.”

  “Are you my lawyer?”

  “No, I’m here because I have a jail bridge game with the inmates, been doing it for years. I asked to talk to you because one of the players got paroled, so we need a fourth.”

  “I need to formally hire you, to pay you.”

  He is technically correct; there is no lawyer-client confidentiality until he hires me. “Okay, give me a dollar.”

  “They took everything away.”

  “So give me a verbal IOU for a dollar.”

  “You got it.” Then, “Andy, no bullshit now; I’ve got very little money to pay you.”

  “I’ll more than make it up by not having to buy you beers at Charlie’s while you’re in here. Now will you tell me what is going on?”

  “Danny was working as a police informant; he’s been providing information for more than three years.”

  “Information about what?”

  “Various criminal enterprises. He’d always been tied in, even though as far as I know he’d been on the right side for a while. Ever since he got out. I don’t think he’s come up with much information, but I’m not sure, since I wasn’t his contact.”

  “What does this have to do with you?”

  “Apparently he informed on me,” he says.

  “For doing what?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know yet, but I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “You knew you were going to be arrested yesterday,” I say.

  He nods confirmation. “Yeah. The chief called me in on the morning of the day Danny died. He told me that Danny had given some information on me, that he couldn’t discuss it, but that an investigation was ongoing. Then, the morning after the murder, he said that in light of the circumstances, they were putting me on paid leave.”

  “That’s all he said?”

  “Yeah. He wouldn’t have been allowed to say more. It’s policy.”

  “So how did you know you were being arrested?” I ask.

  “Just a feeling I had. I’ve been around long enough that I can sense things when I talk to people. I was the walking dead.”

  “So you don’t know what they have?”

  “I don’t. But whatever it is, it’s either wrong or manufactured. Because I did not kill Danny.”

  “Who did?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Danny had texted me, said he needed to see me right away, that we had to talk. I think I got there right after he was shot, but I didn’t see anyone. I searched the place, but the shooter was gone. Then I called in for backup.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll keep you posted, and we’ll get more into this when I see the prosecution’s case. In the meantime, Ricky is fine. You think Social Services will let him stay with us?”

  “Have Laurie speak to Donna Williams down there. She’s a friend, and she knows the story; I talked to her yesterday. She also knows Ricky is better off with you.”

  “Will do.”

  “Then get me the hell
out of here,” he says.

  “I’m about to start working on that now. We’ve got a meeting at the house. Arraignment will be in a day or two.”

  “Do we have a shot at bail?”

  I shake my head slightly. “Not a great one, but we’ll go for it.” I know he understands how unlikely it is.

  “Marcus going to be at the meeting?” he asks, smart enough to want Marcus on his side.

  “Of course.”

  “Marcus costs money. Money I don’t have.”

  “We starting with that again? It’s money I do have.”

  “You’re never going to let me forget that you did this for me, are you?”

  I smile, for the first time since I’ve been here. “Not a chance in hell.”

  “I basically have nothing to tell you,” I say.

  I’m aware that this is not the best way to get a group fired up and raring to go, but at this point I really don’t have a choice.

  Hike, Sam, Willie, and Marcus have come to the house, as requested, to begin the process of defending Pete. Laurie is here as well, but she lives here, and Ricky, who for the time being also lives here, is upstairs playing with some toys that Laurie got him.

  “Pete doesn’t know much either, at least not about the evidence. He knows that Danny informed on him for something, but doesn’t know what it could be. That leads me to assume that they believe the motive was revenge, but that wouldn’t be enough to make an arrest.”

  “So what can we do now?” Willie Miller asked the question, and I’m not surprised that he’s anxious to get started. I met Willie when he had already spent seven years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and I defended him successfully in a retrial. Of all people, he would be the most upset about Pete facing the same fate he suffered.

  Willie does not really have a role to play here, but he usually finds a way to be helpful. He’s a black belt in karate, and knows how to handle himself very well. He’s tough as nails; not Marcus tough, but a good guy to have on our side.

  “Really nothing,” I say. I just wanted to get everybody together to tell you to be ready, that we want to hit the ground running. “We’ll get the information soon enough in discovery. Hike, did they assign a prosecutor yet?”

  He nods. “Richard Wallace.”

  On balance, that’s good news. Wallace is one of the few prosecutors I have a good relationship with. He’s honest and fair, and actually was mentored by my father, when he ran the prosecutor’s office. Wallace will be relatively forthcoming and easy to deal with concerning discovery, which can occasionally be a contentious procedure.

  Having said that, the only negative about Richard Wallace handling the case is a significant one. He is a tough, smart adversary, and remains unflappable in the face of my courtroom bullshit. When it comes to prosecutors, I prefer weak, dumb, and completely flappable. Unfortunately, that’s a rare breed.

  Edna walks in and says, “Sorry I’m late.” She sits down and opens a pad to take notes, a surprisingly business-like approach. Maybe the tournament experience has changed her.

  We take a little more time to set up the structure, which is no different than always. Hike will work with me, Marcus with Laurie, and Willie will freelance if we need him. Sam is an entity unto himself, and will wait to see if we need his computer skills.

  I adjourn the meeting, after telling the group that we will be using my house as our headquarters, rather than the office. I move to the den and call Richard Wallace. He takes the call, starting with, “Andy, I figured you’d be the one Pete would turn to.”

  “Turns out Clarence Darrow is dead.”

  He laughs. “No wonder I haven’t seen him around the courthouse lately.” Then, “Haven’t seen you there in a while, either.”

  “That’s the way I like it. Can I come down?”

  “Sure. I was just going to lunch,” he says. “You hungry?”

  “No, but if the county is buying, I’ll eat like a pig.”

  “You’re on.”

  He picks a restaurant called the Bonfire, which is much closer to my house than it is to his office. He’s not being gracious or accommodating by making this choice; it’s more about his not wanting to be seen dining with an adversary.

  I get up to leave, but before I can do so, Edna comes in and closes the door behind her.

  “Can we talk?” she asks.

  “Sure, but I’m heading for lunch with Richard Wallace in a few minutes.”

  “I won’t be long. I’m going to stay through this case, because I care about Pete, but then I’m going to be resigning.”

  “Why?” This has truly taken me by surprise.

  “I finished eighth in the tournament, Andy. Eighth.”

  I’m not sure if she considers that good or bad, but I think it’s fantastic, so that’s how I react.

  It turns out, she agrees. “No one has ever finished that high in their first year. They’re talking about me as newcomer of the year.”

  “Can you make any money doing this?” I ask.

  “It’s not about the money.”

  We talk a bit more and decide to revisit it after Pete’s case is completed, though she says her mind is made up. As I’m leaving, she once more reiterates her desire to do anything she can to help Pete.

  Richard is waiting for me in a back booth at the restaurant, reading through a file. He looks up and smiles when he sees me, and we shake hands.

  “That for me?” I ask, pointing at the file.

  He shakes his head. “No, unlike defense attorneys, we prosecutors can walk and chew gum at the same time. This is another case.”

  “There is no other case,” I say.

  He nods his understanding. “Yeah, this is not going to be fun.”

  The waiter comes over and we order. Once he’s gone, I say, “You can’t think that Pete Stanton is a murderer.”

  “Until two days ago, I would have thought it more likely that I was. I’ve always considered Pete a friend.”

  “So why did you take the case?”

  “First of all, it was explained to me that if I turned it down, people high up would be very upset.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s very high profile; apparently some people are dumb enough to think I will represent the county well.”

  “You could have said he was your friend, and gotten out based on that conflict.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I probably could have. It would have hurt me internally, but I could have handled it. But I also want to make sure he gets a completely fair shake.”

  “He will.”

  “I know,” he says. “I’m glad you’re on it. But you know I’m always in it to win, and you’ve got an uphill climb.”

  “What have you got?”

  He shakes his head slightly, as if sorry to report the news. “A lot; you’ll start getting discovery this afternoon.”

  “Give me the highlights.”

  He shakes his head. “Let’s not ruin our lunch.”

  When I get home, I witness a truly frightening sight.

  Ricky and Marcus are in the den, playing some kind of board game. It makes me uncomfortable knowing I’m on the same planet as Marcus, but he and Ricky are yukking it up, and actually smack hands with each other in a high five. It is the first time I have ever seen Marcus hit someone that did not result in hospitalization, or worse.

  Evidently Ricky is that rare kid who takes to everyone, except for me.

  Edna and Laurie are in the kitchen, and Edna is regaling her with all the details of her impressive tournament finish. I get to hear about it as well, and then Laurie says, “Edna has offered to help out around here with Ricky.”

  “Great, Edna. Thanks. Can that start now?”

  I tell them that I want to head back to the murder scene with Laurie, and have arranged with Richard Wallace for access. Edna is fine watching Ricky, so Laurie tells him that Edna will be there. Apparently, Ricky likes Edna as well, because he’s totally okay with it. Between her and his good bu
ddy, Marcus, he’s seems pretty content.

  Laurie and I head back to what used to be Ricky’s house. Actually, it probably still is; I would think he will inherit it. I make a mental note that I need to check into whether Danny left a will. As long as Ricky is in our care, I should be protecting his rights.

  One of the first things Laurie and I always do when we start a case is go to the scene of the crime. It gives us a good feel for the investigation that will follow, much better than just using the photos that have certainly been taken.

  I generally like to wait until I have gone over the discovery, since I would then know what the prosecution alleges took place. But I’m so anxious to get going on this that rather than just wait for the discovery documents to arrive, it seems more productive to begin the process now.

  The scene is quite different from what it was the other night, and not just because it’s daylight. There are no crowds around, no police barricades, no cars with flashing lights. Except for the yellow police tape around the house, and one officer standing on the porch, you’d never guess that a person was gunned down here so recently.

  The cop had received instructions through Richard’s office to let us enter, and we do so. It doesn’t take a trained detective to tell where Danny was standing when he was shot: there is a large blood-stain about twelve feet from the front door.

  “Do we know whether he was shot in the back?” I ask.

  “No, he took two bullets in the chest. Pete mentioned that the other night.”

  “So it’s likely he wasn’t running away. He probably let the killer in, otherwise he would have been shot nearer to the door.”

  “Ricky was up there in his room,” she says, pointing. “At some point we might have to ask him what he heard.”

  “That can be your job.”

  “What did Pete say about what he saw when he arrived?”

  “He said the door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open and saw Danny lying there. He started to back out of the house to call for backup, then realized Ricky might be inside. So he went back in, and heard Ricky upstairs, crying. He called for backup after that.”