For Better or Worse

by Al Lamanda

  Harry reached into a tote and handed it to me.

  “What’s up?” Carly said.

  I sat down. “Give me a minute,” I said.

  I flipped pages and read the FBI report several times. “The bank records show that the safe deposit box was rented six months ago on this date. The bank president and a few others looked at a photo lineup, and can say they are only seventy-five percent certain the man in the bank and in the photo is Walt.”

  “Seventy five percent is just good enough to sway a grand jury,” Carly said. “Especially given the contents of the box.”

  “I know,” I said. “But what I’m interested in is the date he opened the account. November 16th of last year. Get a warrant to search police department time records and see if Walt worked that day. If he did, he couldn’t have flown to the Cayman Islands.”

  Carly and Harry looked at me.

  “Harry, check to see how long it takes to fly to the Cayman Islands, and see if it can be done in one day,” I said. “If Walt didn’t work that day, could he have done a round-trip in one day and be at work the next?”

  Carly picked up the landline phone and punched in a number.

  “Judge Brooks, please,” she said. After a few seconds, she said, “Judge Brooks, it’s Carly Simms. I need to talk to you about another warrant.”

  Carly looked at me, and then said, “Yes, forty-five minutes. Thank you.”

  She hung up and said, “Jack, get changed. Harry, hold down the fort.”

  * * *

  “Make it quick, Miss Simms,” Brooks said. “I have a charity dinner tonight, and I’d like to go home and change.”

  “Yes, your honor,” Carly said. “We can find no records in discovery that the work history for Captain Grimes was verified. We’d like to search those records to see if he worked on the day in question, when he was supposed to be in the Cayman Islands.”

  “The People didn’t check those records?” Brooks said.

  “If they did, they didn’t include it in discovery,” Carly said.

  Brooks sighed. “You have your warrant, Miss Simms,” he said. “But it pertains only to Captain Grimes. Understood?”

  “Yes, your honor,” Carly said.

  * * *

  “Three hours to the Cayman Islands,” Harry said. “A few hours at the bank and make a quick turnaround, and it can be done in nine hours or so.”

  “But can you do it without being missed?” I said. “Grab the landline and cell records for that day.”

  Harry opened a file and spread documents across the table. “What was that date again?” he said.

  “November 16th, last year,” I said.

  Harry used his finger to work down the list. “Three calls from the landline to his cell,” he said. “And two from his cell to the landline.”

  “Time of calls,” I said.

  “To his cell at 10:20, five after one, and 2:40,” Harry said. “From his cell to the landline at 10:43 and 2:56.”

  “Durations,” I said.

  “The shortest call was a minute and three seconds,” Harry said. “The longest was two minutes and twelve.”

  “Do those sound like the calls of a man in the Cayman Islands?” I said.

  “More like married couple chitchat,” Harry said.

  “Where are the passenger lists for flights to the Caymans on November 16th?” I said.

  “We’ve gone over them a dozen times,” Carly said. “If Walt was on a flight that day, he used a different name.”

  “I know,” I said. I took the lists of the various airlines that had flights to the Cayman Islands on November 16th. “But fake drivers’ licenses and passports don’t grow on trees. An amateur, and even a professional, would choose a name similar to their real name to make it easier to remember. So, Harry, make a list of male passengers with the initials ‘WG’ and then run them down, and see if they’re real people or not.”

  Harry looked at me.

  “Go,” I said. “Go, go.”

  Harry grabbed the lists, sat and got to work.

  I looked at Carly. “When do you want to go to the station and serve the warrant?”

  “In the morning,” Carly said.

  I glanced at my watch. “Grab the list of credit card charges for November 16th, and see what you see in that week leading up to that day.”

  Carly reached for the file as I went inside and made a pot of coffee. When I returned and filled our three empty cups, Harry said, “I have passengers with the initials WG.”

  “Harry, run down those names and make sure they are real people,” I said.

  Harry nodded.

  Carly looked up at me as she grabbed her coffee mug. “The week of November 16th of last year, there is a charge the day of to an electrician. It doesn’t say what it is, but that’s easy enough to check.”

  “That’s what the five chitchat calls were about,” I said.

  Carly’s cell phone rang and she scooped it up. She listened for a moment and said, “Not much longer. See you in a bit.”

  She hung up and looked at me. “The wife wants me home,” she said.

  “What time do you want to serve the warrant?” I said.

  “I’ll pick you up at nine for breakfast, and then, right after,” Carly said.

  “Pick me up here,” I said. “Take off, I’ll put everything away.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I had dinner at home. Regan and Elizabeth made lasagna and some kind of Italian cake for dessert.

  Walt and I took our cake and coffee into the backyard.

  “Mind a few questions?” I said.

  Walt looked tired and haggard, and who could blame him?

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  “November 16th, the day you supposedly flew to the Caymans to deposit the money, there were five calls made between you and Elizabeth,” I said.

  “You’re asking me about some calls between me and Elizabeth from six months ago?” Walt said.

  “On that day, there is a credit card change to an electrician,” I said.

  Walt looked at me and then a light came on in his eyes and he said, “We had a ceiling fan installed in our bedroom. I remember now.”

  “Did you see the electrician?” I said.

  “He showed up after I left for work,” Walt said. “I think Liz called me around ten thirty to say he had arrived.”

  “It takes three hours to fly to Grand Cayman,” I said. “The DA is going to make the case that you had plenty of time to make a round- trip and be home in time for dinner.”

  “Except that I didn’t, and a passenger list will prove it,” Walt said.

  “They will argue you could have flown under an assumed name,” I said.

  “Oh, please,” Walt said. “Even if I wanted a fake license and passport, I wouldn’t know where to get one. I’d also need a matching credit card to pay for the plane ticket.”

  “It’s doable, Walt. They also have a seventy-five-percent positive ID at the bank,” I said.

  “Yeah, from a six-month-old memory of someone they saw only once,” Walt said. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  I sipped some coffee and looked at Walt.

  “I’m fucked, aren’t I?” Walt said.

  “Don’t sell Carly short,” I said. “It only takes one to hang a jury.”

  “A mistrial isn’t the same as being found innocent,” Walt said.

  “First things first,” I said. “Look, I got to go. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  * * *

  “How is Walt taking being babysat twenty-four-seven?” Jane said.

  “About how you’d expect,” I said.

  “He’s stir crazy without being in stir,” Jane said.

  She flipped off the sheet and reached for her cigarettes on the nig
htstand beside the bed. “I’m going to miss this dump,” she said.

  “Me too,” I said.

  “Want to go sit for a while?”

  “Sure.”

  Jane slipped her robe on and I tossed on shorts and a T-shirt, and we went outside and took our old, rusty lawn chairs.

  The moon was up and the tide was high and the waves crashed loudly on the sand.

  Jane inhaled on the cigarette and blew smoke out through her nostrils. She was forty-seven now, but appeared a decade or more younger.

  I told her so.

  “That’s because we’re in the dark, silly,” she said.

  There was some firewood beside the large metal trashcan, and I tossed it in, splashed some lighter fuel from the grill onto it, and tossed in a match.

  The fire glowed against Jane’s face, and I had to admire what a gorgeous-looking woman she was, day or night.

  “Ever think of making us permanent?” Jane said.

  “Yes.”

  “And what do you think about that?”

  “I think it’s about time,” I said.

  “I’ve always wanted a nineteen-year-old stepdaughter and an old man for a stepson,” Jane said.

  “Then, I’m here to give you what you want,” I said.

  Jane inhaled on the cigarette and then blew a few smoke rings. “One thing we need to get straight right now, no more kids for me. I did my time in diaper hell, and I’m not looking for another go round.”

  “No argument here,” I said.

  “We’ll talk about this more after you get Walt acquitted,” Jane said.

  I stood up and added another log to the fire.

  Jane dropped her spent cigarette to the sand. “Let’s go for a swim,” she said.

  Before I could object or agree, Jane was running down to the water. I jogged after her and by the time I caught up, she had tossed the robe aside and waded in up to her waist.

  “I think skinny dipping is illegal,” I said.

  “I’ll write myself a ticket,” Jane said. “Are you coming in or do I have to drag you in?”

  I removed my shorts and T-shirt and waded in up to my waist. “It’s freezing,” I said.

  “Did it shrivel Jack’s beanstalk?” Jane said.

  She reached down and felt around. “Yup,” she said, and then turned and dove under. She surfaced and looked at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix that condition later.”

  We swam around and rode the waves for a bit, and then returned to the trailer to dry off in front of the bonfire.

  Jane lit a cigarette and passed it to me. “Sometimes I wish I could clone myself so I could go to work and still be a beach bum with you at the same time,” she said. “But I guess it’s impossible to be in two places at the same time.”

  I took a hit on the cigarette and passed it back to Jane. “Yeah, impossible,” I said.

  Jane tossed away the cigarette and stood up. “I’m cold,” she said. “Let’s go in and I’ll see if I can fix that condition of yours.”

  * * *

  Jane left for work around seven-thirty. I shaved, showered, put on a suit minus a tie, and waited in my lawn chair with a mug of coffee.

  The limo arrived a few minutes before nine.

  “It’s impossible to be in two places at the same time,” I said.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Carly said.

  “We’re not going to beat the six hundred found in the safe deposit box,” I said. “Our best bet for a hung jury and a mistrial is to prove Walt couldn’t be in two places at the same time.”

  Carly and Harry looked at me.

  “Isn’t that why we got the warrant we’re about to serve?” Carly said.

  “Yes, but I mean really nail it home,” I said. “Last night I talked to Walt. Those five calls between him and Elizabeth on November 16th were about a ceiling fan they had installed in their bedroom. I looked through the checkbook statements this morning and Elizabeth paid the electrician by check.”

  Carly nodded. “A mistrial gives us added time to go for the acquittal,” she said.

  “It does,” I said. “Where are we going for breakfast?”

  * * *

  The diner Harry suggested served excellent steak and eggs. The twelve-ounce steak was cooked medium rare, the three fried eggs runny over a bed of rice, the orange juice fresh and the coffee strong.

  Carly had two poached eggs with toast, juice and coffee.

  To my surprise, Harry had what I had.

  “Napier is going to hammer home the point of the safe deposit box and seventy-five percent identification,” I said. “We counter with it’s impossible for Walt to be in Grand Cayman and working at home on the same day. Hammer the point home and one or two jury members will vote mistrial.”

  Harry nodded, ate a slice of steak and said, “And that buys us three months at least, if not more.”

  “How long will it take to prep Walt to take the stand?” I said.

  “Not long,” Carly said. “He’s been on the stand hundreds of time before.”

  “Never as a defendant,” I said.

  “True,” Carly said. “I can meet with him later today.”

  We finished breakfast, and I put the tab on the credit card I use for business expenses.

  In the limo, I said, “Carly, you serve the warrant and let me take it from there. And tell the driver to stop at Pat’s.”

  * * *

  Carly served the warrant to the acting precinct commander.

  He said, “I’d give you whatever you need to clear Walt without a warrant.”

  “I know, but it’s better if it’s official,” Carly said.

  We were in the lobby of the police station. Harry held three boxes of donuts.

  “Bring one to the day room, one to the detective’s squad room, and give me the third,” I said. “Then meet us in the data room.”

  Sergeant Venus Brown, a beautiful black woman in her upper forties, was in command of the data room. Everything and anything pertaining to the precinct passed through her capable hands.

  She stood from her desk and greeted me with a hug.

  “Is that bribe in your hands for me?” she said.

  “We have a warrant, so technically it’s a gift and not a bribe,” I said.

  I set the box of donuts on a vacant desk.

  “This is Carly Simms, Walt’s attorney,” I said.

  Venus and Carly shook hands. “You used to be the D.A.,” Venus said.

  “In what seems like another lifetime ago.” Carly said.

  “So, what do you need?” Venus asked.

  “Proof that Walt worked on November 16th of last year,” I said.

  “That’s easy,” Venus said. She went to a file cabinet and removed a thick logbook. “We still use a daybook around here.”

  Before computers and time clocks, most police precincts used a daybook where captains, lieutenants, and detectives would sign in and out whenever they entered or left the building.

  Venus handed me the daybook and I flipped pages to November 16th.

  Reading over my shoulder, Carly said, “Walt signed in at 8:45, out at noon, back in at one and out again just after six. He worked all day.”

  “Is this Walt’s handwriting?” I said to Venus.

  “You know it is,” she said.

  I looked at Carly. “We’ll need an impartial handwriting expert,” I said.

  Carly nodded. “I know one,” she said.

  “Venus, we’ll need all the paperwork Walt signed that day,” I said. “Manpower reports, detectives reports, anything, everything.”

  Venus nodded. “I better get you a box,” she said.

  * * *

  At the beach, we spread everything out on the table and read every document carefully.

&nbs
p; “I know Walt’s handwriting as well as my own and I have no doubt he signed all these documents on November 16th,” I said.

  “I’ll call my expert and see if he’s available for the grand jury,” Carly said.

  While Carly used the phone and Harry scribbled notes on a pad, I went inside the trailer and made a pot of coffee.

  I brought it out along with three cups.

  “He’ll fly in for expenses only,” Carly said. “He’ll wave his usual fee of a thousand a day.”

  “Why?” I said.

  “He owes me,” Carly said and let it go at that.

  “I checked handwriting in the day book, the manpower reports, sign offs on detectives reports, and if the expert can verify it as Captain Grimes’s handwriting, our case to the grand jury is a strong one,” Harry said.

  “Did we get forensics on the fifty thousand and the cash in the safe deposit box?” I said.

  “No. I’ll give them a call,” Carly said.

  I drank a cup of coffee while Carly called the FBI lab.

  “Not so much as a smudged thumb print of Walt’s on the money,” she said after hanging up.

  “Let’s go see a friend of mine who can help prep Walt for the grand jury,” I said.

  Chapter Twelve

  Frank Kagan answered his own front door and sighed when he saw it was me, Carly and Harry ringing his bell.

  “Can we come in?” I said, as I walked past him.

  “By all means,” Kagan said. “Hello, Carly, who is your new pet?”

  “Harry Kane from the public defender’s office,” Carly said.

  Kagan caught up with me in his living room.

  “This can only be about Captain Grimes,” Kagan said.

  Around sixty-five now with snowy white hair, Kagan was Eddie Crist’s personal lawyer for thirty years.

  “I need you to help prep Walt for the grand jury,” I said.

  “I’m semi retired,” Kagan said.

  “Seeing as how Eddie Crist was your only client, you’ve been semi retired for thirty years now,” I said.

  Kagan looked up at me and said, “Prep work isn’t my strong suit.”

  “Aw, Frank, you’ve prepped hundreds of criminals for a grand jury. It’s time you prepped a good guy,” I said.

  Kagan looked at Carly. “How is Campbell?” he said.