The 3rd Victim

by Sydney Bauer

  The creator looked crestfallen. ‘What will you tell the client?’ Davenport asked at last.

  ‘Nothing – at least not yet.’

  ‘I'm afraid there is no avoiding it.’

  But he was not so sure, the only thought consuming him being that perhaps he had underestimated Sienna Walker after all.

  PART THREE

  36

  Esther Wallace sat back in the oversized armchair and lifted her feet so that they faced the eighteenth century fireplace. She felt like taking a bath but the cottage did not have one – just some rickety old shower that spurted alternate bursts of too-hot and then too-cold rust-coloured water across the slate-covered bathroom floor.

  Esther liked a bath – always had done, which was quite appropriate really considering she grew up in the Stratford-upon-Avon city of the same name. And she thought of Bath then – all civilised and structured. It was no wonder Jane Austen chose it as her home between 1801 and 1806. Austen liked a civilised setting, unlike Bronte, who grew up mere miles from Esther's current location, a landscape born out of wretchedness and misery and –

  Esther gave an involuntary jump as her cell started to ring. The sound itself bringing back memories ring, ring … ring, ring as opposed to the American ring … ring … ring …

  It was just as well, she thought, as she got up to answer it, because her mind was starting to wander. Her phone had not rung in the entirety of her stay here, which was over two months at this point.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, her voice going down, not up, at the end of the three-letter opener as if she was already answering the question.

  Her mottled brow creased as she listened intently – and she remained disappointed when the caller signed off, not just because she only had the chance to utter that singular word, but because she blamed herself for what had happened – or more specifically, her inability to stop things before it became too late.

  37

  It had been over three weeks since David's ‘forensics report’ meeting with Joe, and since he had told Sienna Walker that the man she'd thought had fathered her daughter was not the father after all. She had taken the news quietly, even answered calmly in the negative when David asked the question he knew he had to – about her fidelity and the possibility that Eliza was fathered by another man in her life.

  David understood this was unlikely, not just because he trusted his client but because Eliza was born using IVF and as such, the ‘anomaly’ concerning her paternity must have occurred in the laboratory before the embryo that became Eliza was transplanted back into his client. But he knew he had to ask, if only so they could move on and deal with the puzzle at hand.

  While Sienna had tried desperately to contain her emotions, to separate the trauma from the logic of it, David had detected that deep sense of sorrow in her eyes. Most would not have seen it, because Sienna Walker held such weaknesses close to the chest, but David had become attuned to what his client was thinking, probably because he had spent close to every day with her for what was now over a month – that, and the fact that the four walls of the tiny courthouse meeting room that now contained them, much like those of the now too-familiar interview room walls at County, acted as incubators to those kinds of emotions – the ones that you harnessed for fear of going crazy, and the realisation that confined spaces like this could be home for the rest of your life.

  That being said, there was a new fire in Sienna Walker's belly – the loss of her husband, the death of her daughter, the knowledge that the two people she loved most in the world were not biologically related, somehow combined to ignite in her a fresh determination to fight. She was sad but steely, down but not out, and David had to admit he had come to rely on his client as a valid part of her own defence team – not just because she was smart and proactive, but because she was considerate, reasonable and had an uncanny ability to pull apart the evidence and put it back together with a clarity even he, on occasion, couldn't grasp.

  ‘So you are saying the DA could use this paternity issue against me.’ Sienna was up and pacing around the small space at the Suffolk County Superior Court. She had been allowed temporary release from County to attend a short court appearance relating to the pre-trial motions David was filing on her behalf. They had been debating why Katz had not released to the media, amongst other things, the nature of Eliza Walker's paternity.

  ‘Arthur thinks it's possible,’ said David. He was frustrated. They had been waiting for the DA to produce his discovery in the case of the Commonwealth vs Walker for over a month. David had filed a motion of non-compliance and taken it to Judge Isaac Stein, who promptly told the DA he would be liable for sanction unless he produced all items by the end of the day. But Katz's stalling had him worried as the DA obviously had his own reasons for holding on to items such as the forensics and medical material – information David luckily had access to, thanks to his good friend Joe.

  David pulled out a chair to join his mentor at the rectangular black oak conference table which took up most of the room. ‘The paternity issue doesn't assist us beyond the fact that it poses a number of questions as to how and why your husband's seminal fluid got replaced by somebody else's. We can ask ourselves – if the exchange was deliberate – why Davenport, and as a flow-on Daniel Hunt, would do this, but we all agree that the swap could have been accidental, which means Katz could argue that you found out about it, saw your daughter as removed from your husband, and basically, in a fit of grief, snapped.’

  Sienna looked at Arthur. She had obviously grown to respect the elderly attorney over the past few weeks, a respect that was now mutual. ‘I see,’ she said, her English accent as crisp as ever. ‘But that theory goes against our assumptions on the DA's strategies. We believe he will steer clear of any diminished responsibility argument, because to do so would give me an out.’

  This was true. In recent weeks Katz had made it very clear that he was going after their client for the strongest possible charge of murder one, so David did not believe he would use the paternity as a means of locking Sienna into some sort of ‘mental breakdown’ prosecution. In fact, like Joe, he thought Katz would steer well away from it, simply so that he could send their client to prison for the rest of her life.

  ‘You agree?’ Sienna looked at David.

  He nodded. ‘I hate to say it, but I think the Kat will be after another motive, one that will eliminate the jury's propensity to sympathy.’

  Sienna looked at Sara who was perched on the windowsill. ‘Sara?’ she asked.

  ‘I agree with David,’ she said. ‘Arthur's argument is a logical one, but I can't see Katz taking the easy way out.’

  ‘So what is he going to use for motive?’ asked their client.

  ‘We're not sure,’ said David. ‘Joe Mannix suggested Dick Davenport might be willing to discuss your thoughts about becoming a mother – so if he's on Katz's witness list, which we suspect he will be, my guess is the Kat will use him toward motive.’

  ‘You think Dick will claim I didn't want to have a baby?’ She took the next logical step. ‘But why would I put myself through the IVF if …’

  ‘For your husband,’ said Sara.

  ‘And then, when I found out that Eliza wasn't Jim's …? Oh god, David, I can see where the DA might go with this.’

  ‘We don't believe he has anything concrete,’ said David, feeling the need to reassure her. ‘I plan to see Davenport myself, in fact I've placed a number of calls to his surgery, but he hasn't returned them as yet.’

  ‘Perhaps that is because he is already in the DA's camp?’

  ‘If he doesn't call back I'll walk on over to his surgery and sit there until he sees me – at the very least this will give me a sense as to where his loyalties lie.’

  Sienna nodded, perhaps knowing there was nothing more they could do about this until they clarified Davenport's position.

  ‘What about Markus Dudek?’ asked Sienna. ‘Have we made any progress as to the nature of his recent investments …? A
nd Jim's accident … have we … did you …?’

  David took a breath. Their ‘case’ against Hunt was moving slowly. Information on Dudek and his investment activities was proving impossible to accumulate, given Dudek had constructed a Fort Knox-style wall around any data relating to his trading accounts. Approaching such enquiries from the run-of-the-mill public record angle was proving equally as restrictive, given Hunt's annual shareholders report made no mention of any activity relating to Dudek's investments bar listing his company as a client who occasionally sought financial planning advice.

  As for Jim Walker's accident, Joe had gone down every investigatory avenue available to him including contacting the Baltimore police, the crime unit investigators involved in both the collection of at-the-scene material and the subsequent analysis of the limited samples collected from the incinerated mess, and the homicide detectives who worked on Walker's case. But everything, including the court documents relating to the accidental death finding, appeared above board and conclusive.

  ‘I'm sorry, Sienna,’ said David after a time. ‘I know it feels like we are running in circles. There has to be a way to break down the wall that is Hunt and his illegal dealings, we just have to figure out what it is.’

  He glanced at Sara and knew what she was thinking – that they were fast running out of time, that they had spent the past month trying to build a case against Daniel Hunt instead of one that defended their client – and despite the fact that one could ultimately do the other, they were, at least at this stage, two very different things.

  *

  ‘Okay,’ said Sara a few moments later, after reading the dilemma on David's sleep-deprived face. She could see what was happening: that David was losing heart, that the pressure of trying to save their client was compounded by his hatred for the man they believed to be responsible. And this is where she always stepped in – when she knew that David cared too much and his frustration and anger had started to cloud the lines of logic, and so she took them back to the beginning, to what they did have … to what they knew.

  ‘The way I see it, at least at this stage, we need to agree upon what we agree upon.’ She looked around the room and got a somewhat weary nod from all three of her companions. ‘We agree that Eliza was killed by someone intent on hurting both the child and her mother, perhaps as a secondary phase of some plan which started with the possible murder of the dad. We believe that Daniel Hunt and his friend Dick Davenport are responsible, but once again, at this stage, we have no proof.’ She glanced quickly at David, and then Arthur, who gave her a nod to move on. ‘We know the child was not Jim Walker's biological offspring and we believe that this might be relevant to our case, but if so, we have no explanation as to Hunt's or Davenport's motives, as Eliza's paternity has no relationship to the “insider trading” argument we are pursuing to clear Sienna in court.’

  It was a harsh but true summary, and she knew it had to be said. Truth be told, their case was weak at best and nonexistent at worst, and they weren't going to gain any ground until they broke things down and examined them – piece by individual piece.

  ‘We believe Jim Walker was killed while on a job for Daniel Hunt. We know he had meetings in New York, where Markus Dudek is based, so perhaps there was a link between this last trip and our assumptions about Dudek's activities. Sienna,’ she turned to their client, ‘did your husband say he was going to see Markus Dudek while he was in New York City?’

  Sienna's brow knotted. ‘In the weeks before his death, Jim spoke less and less of Dudek. I asked him about him, but … I sensed he refrained from discussing his suspicions for fear of upsetting me – or, perhaps in hindsight, of involving me in something he deemed to be unsafe.’ She took a breath. ‘Yes. He said he was going to New York, but Jim had a number of clients in Manhattan and –’

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ David interrupted her. He lifted his hand and rubbed at his forehead, as if willing a thought to come. ‘Jim was killed in Maryland.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sienna.

  ‘Just outside of Baltimore.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So who would he be meeting with there?’

  Sienna shook her head. ‘I don't know. But as I said, he had taken to avoiding conversations about work, and he had clients up and down the east coast so …’

  ‘He thought Hunt and Dudek were involved in some form of insider trading,’ David said, ‘but he had no proof.’

  ‘That's right,’ said Sienna.

  ‘Because there was no proof.’ It was Arthur's turn to comment. ‘We've been over this, David. We've contacted every market watchdog we can think of and made the subtle enquiries necessary. If Jim Walker had proof, he most likely would have reported it, but there is no record of it, not with the SEC or any other market monitoring authority.’

  ‘Arthur's right,’ interrupted Sara. ‘He could well have intended to report Hunt but perhaps Hunt stopped him before Walker accumulated what he thought was enough proof to justify his accusations.’

  But David was shaking his head. This was not what he was getting at, and Sara could see he was trying to clear his thoughts.

  David turned to Sienna. ‘You need to think hard, Sienna, back to the morning your husband left on that trip. Did he say anything? Give you any indication of where he was going and who he needed to see?’

  ‘No. Jim travelled a lot for his work. I was just as used to it as he was. He didn't say or do anything significant, he …’

  ‘Please,’ said Sara. ‘Sometimes the smallest of details can help.’

  Sienna nodded and paused to think. She took a breath before looking up from the table and starting to break it all down. ‘He was running late, I remember that. I'd been feeling tired and he made me breakfast and …’ She took another breath. ‘I knew he was running behind, so while he took a shower I helped pack his bag. I gathered up his files and collected his diary which was sitting face up on the dresser and …’

  Sara looked at David. ‘He listed his appointments in a diary?’

  ‘He was sort of old-fashioned that way,’ Sienna nodded. ‘He liked to write things down. Quick notes, little abbreviations. But as I said, there was nothing unusual there. No mention of Dudek or any meeting in Baltimore – if there had been, I would have remembered it.’

  ‘So what did you see?’ asked David, obviously not ready to let this go. ‘Please, Sienna, this may be important.’

  Sienna nodded then closed her eyes in concentration. ‘There was a series of acronyms. Jim liked to work in acronyms as did everyone in his business – you know, abbreviations for cities, states, companies, people's initials and so forth.’ She swallowed, her eyelids squeezing that fraction closer together. ‘There was an NYC for New York City … and … and the number 3.’ She opened her eyes. ‘Perhaps he had three meetings in Manhattan.’ She looked up at Sara who smiled and nodded for her to go on.

  Sienna shut her eyes again. ‘NYC, 3 … then, underneath this … a name and the acronym … W … C … no.’ She opened her eyes once again. ‘It was WDC. I am sure of it.’

  ‘WDC?’ asked David.

  ‘It's the stock code for Westfield Shopping Empire. They're an Australian company, and another of Jim's clients. They own a number of big shopping complexes around the country. They have a US base in Los Angeles, but they also have other satellite offices … I don't think they have any in Baltimore. I'm sorry,’ she said, looking at David, ‘I'm afraid this isn't helping.’

  ‘It's okay, Sienna,’ he encouraged. ‘You're doing great.’

  She nodded and closed her eyes to focus yet again. ‘All right, WDC – I think next to this was a name, a contact … an initial – “J” I think, and then a name – Tom or Ted … Baker or Barker … It was an average name, and there may have been a phone number next to it. A long distance one, with the area code included but …’ Her blue eyes opened once again, as her shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘I can't recall it. I'm sorry.’

  Sara placed her hand on Sienna's should
er. ‘It's okay. I know this is hard and that it feels like we're clutching at straws but –’

  The noise of David's chair scraping backward on the parquetry floor stopped her short. They watched as he moved to Arthur's desk and picked up his iPad – Arthur's latest technological plaything. ‘You were right, Arthur,’ he said as he pulled up a search engine in seconds. ‘I seriously need to upgrade.’

  Arthur opened his mouth to comment but then shut it again, obviously sensing David would reveal all in good time. But as David fiddled with the device and tapped his foot on the floor as he waited for the information to present itself, Sara threw her hands up in frustration and moved so that she was directly behind his shoulder. ‘What are you looking for?’ she asked.

  She watched as the loading symbol rotated, now crouching low so that she could read the glossy flat screen. And that was when she saw the name and a Wikipedia page present itself and she got to her feet and stood to look at their client. ‘Judge Edward Baker,’ she said.

  Sienna joined them in front of the iPad. ‘This Ted Baker is a judge? I don't understand.’ She looked at David.

  ‘Ted Baker made his name as a high-powered federal prosecutor. He was famous for representing the government against the high-flying hot shots who used Wall Street as their personal money pit back in the eighties, the era of Gordon Gekkos run amuck.

  ‘Then he was offered a place on the Supreme Court, but his tenure didn't last long and there were rumours he was forced into retirement. But he remains a voice on Capitol Hill. In fact he makes it his business to root out modern-day Gekkos and make sure they are brought to justice.’

  ‘You said he was forced into retirement – why?’ asked Sienna.

  ‘The talk was that Baker had started to believe his own publicity, that he was a one-man crusader with the power to influence the way our economy worked. He made friends in high places, started driving Bentleys and smoking Cubans while he continued to speak against the fat cats making money on the open market. Basically he had the reputation of a man who went after what he wanted, no matter what the cost.’