“But…,” she said, “this is Gordon Prentiss and you basically don’t like him.”
“I don’t like most of my clients. There are some who make me want to wash my hand every time I shake their hand. Hell, if criminal defense lawyers only represented people they like, we’d starve to death.” He paused for a moment, looked her in the eyes and said, “You know what it is? I really think he is innocent, but if we lose today, he’s probably hosed. And he’s such a rotten bastard, I’m not sure I care.”
“You’re not supposed to care. Let me tell you something. I see a lot of lawyers come through my court and the absolute worst ones are those that are pursuing some kind of cause. It never fails, they always end up representing their cause and the client gets left in the debris. The best ones are the ones like you; the ones who don’t get emotionally, personally involved.”
Marc looked at his watch then smiled at Margaret, leaned over to kiss her and said, “You’re right. Thanks for the pep talk. Now,” he continued as he stood up and picked up his briefcase, “I better get downstairs and see what I can do for him.”
Prentiss was already seated at the defense table when Marc passed through the gate and set his briefcase on the table. He shook hands with Prentiss and Mac McElhenney who had been waiting for Marc to arrive. McElhenney asked Marc if they could talk in the hallway and the two of them went out just as Steve Gondeck and Jennifer Moore came in.
“I have another check for you,” McElhenney said when they had walked past the media crowd outside the courtroom.
“Good. How much?” Marc replied.
“The balance of the retainer. But we would like you to sign…”
“I’m not signing anything,” Marc interrupted. “And I’m not agreeing to meet with your committee or you or anyone else about the case,” he calmly continued.
“Be reasonable,” McElhenney said. “We just want a…”
“I don’t care what you want. You want to know what’s happening with the case, come to court and watch. But I can’t have you or your committee looking over my shoulder. Your deal is between your firm and Gordon Prentiss. I have nothing to do with that. Have him give you a lien against his house.”
“We did,” McElhenney said. He reached in his inside suit coat pocket and removed a folded check. “I told them you wouldn’t agree to any of their demands.”
“Would you?”
“No,” McElhenney answered as he handed the check to Marc. “Can we at least get a receipt?”
“Nope,” Marc said as he turned and walked back toward the courtroom.
The hearing went almost exactly the way Marc feared it would. The main event was the anonymous call to 911 reporting mysterious sounds coming from the Prentiss house. This was the basis for the police being sent to the house and conducting a search. If Marc could keep out the search, then the discovery of Prentiss and his wife and all of the evidence found at the scene would be inadmissible. If that happened, the prosecution’s case would collapse.
A technician from the police department was put on the stand to authenticate the recording. She testified that it was, in fact, the call that came in at 12:17 A.M. on the night of Catherine Prentiss’ murder. The call had to be played several times, and even then, it was difficult to hear and it could not be determined if it was a man or a woman.
The tech then went on to testify that a call had pinged a cell phone tower two blocks from the Prentiss home at precisely that time. The call clearly came from the neighborhood, she opined.
On cross-examination, Marc was able to nail down the fact that just because a call pinged a tower at that time, there was no definite proof that particular ping was the call that came into the 911 center. He was grasping at some pretty thin straws and he knew it, but if he could discredit the anonymous phone call then the subsequent search would be illegal and the evidence obtained from it would be thrown out.
The next witness was police Sergeant Tim Clark, one of the two cops who were first on the scene. He was called to establish probable cause for the arrest of Prentiss. He testified about his partner taking the call and the two of them investigating the scene. Jennifer Moore had done a good job preparing him and she conducted the exam. She led him through what they had done with special attention paid to how cautious they had been and the minimal amount of intrusiveness they had committed.
The sergeant gave a full and graphic description of the scene they found in the bedroom. Moore used the Sergeant to introduce a single picture of Prentiss lying on top of Catherine with his hand on the knife. Obviously enough to meet the threshold necessary for the arrest.
The final witness was the head of the crime scene unit, Police Lieutenant Carl Mikan. He used a photo of the scene to walk the judge through what the forensic evidence indicated. Gordon Prentiss attacked his wife in her bedroom with a butcher knife. The knife itself was one of a set of knives found in the kitchen. Mrs. Prentiss was able to strike her husband across the side of the head with a vodka bottle just as the defendant stabbed her in the chest. According to the Lieutenant, the physical evidence was clear and there was no other plausible explanation.
While the forensics expert was testifying, Marc took the time to look over the audience. The media was out in full force again. He made eye contact with a couple of them, but mostly they ignored him and concentrated on the testimony.
When it was Marc’s turn to cross-examine the forensics expert he decided to pass. This was a probable cause hearing and not the trial. The only real issues before the court were the legality of the police entry into the Prentiss home and if there was probable cause to arrest Gordon Prentiss.
Normally, these hearings can be used by the defense to get a good look at the evidence and witnesses against the accused. Marc had already received everything that the prosecution had that would be presented at trial. Marc’s main goal today, was to have the search ruled to be illegal. Prentiss, being a judge himself, admitted the odds of that happening were very small.
When the forensics officer was finished, Gondeck informed the court he had no more witnesses and argued that the search was legal and probable cause was clearly established.
Both the defense and the prosecution had presented written pleadings setting forth their legal arguments. Even so, with a crowd of reporters in attendance, making an oral argument for the record couldn’t hurt.
Marc also made a record of his request for a new judge and a change of venue. Before Rios ruled, she called the lawyers to the bench.
“Do you know, Mr. Gondeck, that I am a friend of Judge Tennant with whom Mr. Kadella has a personal, intimate relationship?”
“No, your Honor, I was not aware of that. But I respect you enough to have no objection to your presiding over this case if that is what you are wondering.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gondeck. You may return to your seats.”
“Nicely played,” Marc whispered to Gondeck as they walked back taking a small jab at him for sucking up to the judge.
“I thought so,” Gondeck replied stifling a smile.
“I’ve read over your briefs,” Judge Rios began when the lawyers had been seated. “And after hearing the testimony, I’m ready to rule.
“Mr. Gondeck, the phone call that led the police to search the Prentiss residence is a little thin. It’s hard to hear, almost unintelligible and I’m not entirely comfortable with it.”
Marc looked at Gondeck who was maintaining a poker face despite listening to a possible end to his case.
“However, I find it legally sufficient especially combined with the conduct of the two officers. They were professional and did their jobs as best as they could given the circumstances. With that ruling, there is obviously probable cause for the arrest and the evidence gathered shall not be excluded. I want to see all four of you, including you, Judge Prentiss, in my chambers please.”
The three lawyers and Prentiss took seats in front of the judge’s desk while she removed her robe and hung it on a coat rack. She sat down and s
tarted the conference by saying, “Trial date and how long Mr. Gondeck?”
“We’ll need at least three months to prepare and four weeks for trial.”
“Nonsense,” the judge said. “How much more evidence do you think you’re going to find? Two weeks maximum. Mr. Kadella?”
“I want this tried as quickly as possible,” Prentiss said before his lawyer could speak. “I’m the defendant and I want to exercise my right to a speedy trial. There isn’t that much of a case to put on. I want this over with by mid-July. Three weeks from now.”
Marc’s initial reaction was a desire to slap his client and shut him up. He quickly realized Prentiss was right; the sooner the better. Why give the prosecution more time to dig further?
“I agree, your Honor,” Marc said surprising everyone in the room.
“No way,” Gondeck said almost jumping out of his chair. “That’s not nearly enough…”
“Then agree to bail so my client isn’t sitting in jail waiting for you to prepare,” Marc said.
“No chance. But to be ready in three weeks is unreasonable,” Gondeck replied.
“Mid-July it is,” Rios said ignoring Gondeck. “Monday, July 15th. What about discovery?”
“He has everything we have,” a chastened Steve Gondeck said.
“Mr. Kadella?”
“If he says so,” Marc shrugged.
“Discovery and any pretrial motions will be completed by July 8, one week before trial. I’ll issue an order. If there’s nothing else, I guess we’re done.”
They went out into the courtroom to find most of the media gone. Gondeck and Moore left without a word to Marc. Marc pulled his client aside so the deputy waiting for Prentiss could not overhear them. Before Marc said anything, Prentiss said, “I apologize for my outburst. It was entirely spontaneous. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
They shook hands and Marc watched as the deputy led him away.
SIXTY-ONE
Maddy Rivers had been sitting in her car for over two hours waiting for her surveillance subject to come home. She was parked on a tree-lined residential street in North St. Paul, between two cars in front of his neighbor’s house. Several teenage boys had gone by on bikes and skateboards. A couple of them slowed down to look her over but had said nothing. In this quiet residential neighborhood, she felt like she stood out like a neon sign.
Maddy was working her way through the fourteen threatening letters that had been sent to Prentiss by disgruntled people. Every one of them was from criminal cases over which Prentiss had presided. So far, she was coming up with nothing.
Of the ten she had checked so far, four were dead, all by lead poisoning after being shot. Of the other six, five were still in prison and the other one had moved to California. The five still in prison couldn’t be ruled out since they could possibly get outside help. She had reviewed their cases, provided by an admiring probation officer she knew, Maddy doubted any of them could pull it off. They were all small time idiots without the resources.
The man she was currently looking for was a complete puzzle to her. Sentenced by Prentiss to ten years for embezzling forty thousand dollars from an employer, his sentence was commuted by Prentiss himself in less than a year. The man had written a pretty serious letter to Prentiss after he was sentenced which was highly unusual for a non-violent crime. When Maddy tried to dig into his criminal record, it came up completely clean.
Just before sundown she saw the headlights of a car coming down the street toward her. It was the first car she had seen moving on the street in over an hour and was hopeful this was the guy. Maddy put the romance novel she had been reading on the passenger seat and slumped down so as not to be seen.
The car cruised past her without slowing down. She looked at her watch and knowing it would be dark soon, decided to give it another half hour then call it a night. It was already too dark to read so she simply sat staring through the windshield at the subject’s house. She heard a light tap on her window, turned her head and saw a man’s face with a flashlight under his chin staring at her through the glass. Maddy let out a scream, grabbed her purse and started searching for her gun.
“No, no,” she heard the man yell. “Don’t shoot me,” he continued laughing.
“Jesus Christ, Carvelli! I just about wet my pants and shot you! What the hell are you doing?” she yelled when she saw who it was.
“Open the door and let me in,” Tony said as he started to walk around the front of the car.
“That’s not funny!” Maddy yelled at him and hit him on the shoulder when he got in her car. “I could’ve shot you. I should’ve shot you.”
“I would’ve ducked. Besides, it was too funny. What are you doing here?”
“Where did you come from?” she asked.
“I drove by a couple of minutes ago. What do you want with Nathan Tollman?”
“That was you?”
“Yeah. What are you doing here?”
Maddy quickly told him about the threat letters and that she was checking them out for Marc. When she finished, she asked, “What are you doing here? Who is Nathan Tollman to you?”
Tony hesitated for a moment while he thought it over. Then, quietly said more to himself than Madeline, “That explains how a guy could go to prison for embezzlement and then become a bank president.”
“A bank president? Tony, what the hell are you talking about?”
Tony looked at Maddy and said, “Nathan Tollman is president of Rosewood State Bank in Roseville, a bank that is owned by none other than Leo Balkus. Nathan Tollman is Leo’s money washer.”
She thought about what Tony just told her then said, “What the hell is going on here? Prentiss sentences this guy to ten years. He sends Prentiss a threatening letter then, a year into a ten-year sentence he’s out, his record is expunged and he goes to work as a bank president for Leo. Would the banking commission or whoever it is that regulates banks even allow it?”
“If his record was clean, they wouldn’t know about his conviction,” Tony said. “It seems we may be overlapping our investigations. I think it’s time you meet someone. Follow me, okay?”
“Okay,” a thoroughly puzzled Maddy answered.
A half hour later, Maddy parked her Audi next to Tony’s Camaro in the parking area in front of the Corwin mansion. She got out of her car, walked over to her friend and reverently whispered, “Who lives here, the Pope?”
“A very nice lady. You’ll like her. I phoned ahead. She’s waiting for us.”
One of the evening staff answered the door and let them in. Before they went very far, a smiling Vivian Donahue came walking across the marble covered foyer toward them.
“Hello, Anthony,” she said as she approached them. “And you must be Madeline Rivers. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Maddy managed to say while looking over the inside of the house.
“Oh, God, please call me Vivian,” she said as she slipped her left arm through Maddy’s right and started to walk off leading them both to the library.
As they followed Vivian across the foyer, Maddy poked Tony in the ribs and said, “Anthony?” to which Vivian turned her head at them and smiled.
Vivian opened the library doors for them and followed them in. After they were seated, Vivian on one couch facing the two investigators, said, “Anthony, you didn’t tell me she’s so gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” Maddy politely replied, still a little awed by the setting.
“Youth is wasted on the young,” Vivian said with a smile.
For the next half hour, Tony and Vivian explained their interest in Nathan Tollman and how he relates to Leo Balkus and Gordon Prentiss. When they had finished, Vivian said, “What any of this has to do with his trial for killing his wife, I have no idea.”
“I’m not sure if I should tell you this, but Prentiss insists he’s innocent. Claims he is being framed. I’m lookin
g at anyone who might possibly have done that. Tollman sent him a threatening letter at one time.”
“May I see it?” Vivian asked.
Maddy pulled Tollman’s letter out of her bag and handed it across the table. Vivian read it, and then handed it to Tony.
When Tony finished reading it he gave it back to Maddy and said, “It’s a little vague. All he says is he knows people and Prentiss will be sorry.”
Vivian looked at Tony and said, “Tell her about Leo Balkus and Gordon Prentiss. Or, what we suspect.”
Tony brought Maddy up to date on his investigation of Leo and what they believed about his relationship with Gordon Prentiss.
“Does Marc know this? His trial starts in a few days and…”
“We’ve been concentrating on Leo, not Prentiss. I’m sorry, but I must confess I did not see a connection between Balkus and Catherine Prentiss’ murder,” Vivian said.
“I didn’t either. I talked to a couple of guys with the MPD and word is Prentiss is a slam dunk conviction. You and I can see Marc tomorrow. We’ll lay it out for him and see what he thinks,” Tony added.
SIXTY-TWO
Marc Kadella was seated at his desk working on the preparation for the rapidly approaching trial. Marc had no court appearances to make or client appointments this day. Because of that, he was dressed very casually in jeans, sneakers and a knit pullover shirt. As always, serious doubts were creeping into his head and the closer the calendar got to the trial date, the higher his anxiety quotient arose. It was becoming abnormally high with this case because he was having difficulty coming up with a viable defense or a way to create reasonable doubt in any of the juror’s minds.
Madeline was busy tracking down the senders of Prentiss’s threat letters, but so far, no luck. Marc intended to call the sheriff’s deputy who had been the record keeper of the letters. Marc could use his testimony to authenticate the letters as being given to the sheriff’s office by Prentiss. Other than that, the man could offer nothing to point to a possible candidate who attacked Gordon and murdered Catherine.
Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series) Page 78
