Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series)

by Dennis Carstens

  “How much?” Tom asked.

  “Give me that,” Mackenzie said as she took the bill from him. “Never mind,” Mackenzie said to the younger couple. “It’s worth every penny.”

  She leaned forward and whispered to Marc, “Be a good boy and I’ll let you spend the night.”

  Marc whispered back, “Do I want to spend the night? Does this stuff make you, you know, gassy?”

  Mackenzie gave him a sneer and said, “You’re pushing your luck, buddy.”

  The next morning, wearing a robe Mackenzie had bought for him, Marc brought in the St. Paul paper. Mackenzie was still upstairs in the bathroom while Marc sat at the kitchen island counter sipping coffee and reading the paper. He had the Sports section lying open in front of him when Mackenzie came in.

  “Hi,” she sweetly said and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Good morning,” Marc replied without moving his head to look at her.

  “Anything in the paper?” she asked as she set down her cup of coffee and pulled up a chair opposite him.

  “Twins won,” Marc said.

  Mackenzie opened the local news section and on page three saw it. In the upper right-hand corner was a clear, one-eighth page photo of the two of them leaving the restaurant. Mackenzie’s left arm was looped through Marc’s right and they were adoringly looking at each other.

  Mackenzie quickly read the caption and the short, three paragraphs that accompanied the picture. When she finished she looked across the island at Marc.

  “What?” he asked when he noticed her.

  “Oops,” she said.

  “What?”

  She handed him the paper; he looked at the photo, read the story then looked back at Mackenzie and said, “Oops.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  While Marc and Mackenzie were making plans for dinner, Anna and Max were making plans for Cooper Thomas.

  “So where do we begin?” Anna asked.

  Max and Anna were in Max’s department issued Chevy. They had left Heather Anderson’s office and were on their way back to police headquarters.

  “First thing we do is identify this lawyer’s weakness; his vulnerability,” Max said.

  “I know that,” Anna said. “I meant where do you want to start digging through his life?”

  “I’ll drop you off. Find that kid, what’s-his-name, that you wanted to cougar-up,” Max said with a big grin.

  Anna playfully punched him on the shoulder and said, “I did not want to ‘cougar-up’ to him as you put it. He’s just, kind of, you know, a little hot is all,” she sheepishly added. “Besides, how old do you think I am? I’m barely thirty.”

  “You’re thirty-six which makes you biologically old enough to be his mother.”

  Anna slumped down, sighed and said, “Yeah, I know. It kind of sucks.”

  “No, it doesn’t. I just turned forty. It’s a great age. You’re not a kid and you’re not old. If I could, I’d stay this age forever. Besides, what would you do with him? Play video games?”

  “I can play video games,” Anna said.

  “Twelve hours a day?”

  “No, you’re right. He is easy on the eyes, though,” she added.

  “I thought women didn’t care about that. They’re always claiming that men are superficial pigs and women care about the inner person.”

  “Oh, um, yeah that’s true,” Anna said rolling her eyes and looking away.

  “Uh huh,” Max smiled. “Anyway, find him and put him back in the parking ramp on the lawyer’s car. You hang out outside. If he goes anywhere, you tail him and call me.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I know a guy, a hacker. I’ll go see him and put him on Cooper Thomas. He can find out more online in a couple hours than we can find in a month.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I can’t share that, sorry. Not yet at least. He’s very paranoid and…”

  “Of course he is. He’s a tech guy. Have you ever met one that got along with humans?” Anna asked.

  “Good point. Anyway, I’ll drop you off. You find the kid…”

  “Bret Jurgens.”

  “Whatever. I’ll go see this guy while you two sit on the lawyer.”

  “How do you know this hacker?”

  “An FBI guy I know put me on to him,” Max said.

  “Do the Feebs use him?” Anna asked.

  “Off the books. At least a few of them do. What this guy does isn’t strictly legal, but he cuts through a lot of BS and gets good information.”

  A half-hour after dropping Anna off at her car, Max parked in front of the same eighty-year-old house that Tony Carvelli had. Max was in South Minneapolis, definitely not in his jurisdiction.

  Paul Baker, Pavel Bykowski, opened the door before Max had a chance to knock. Max went inside and took a seat on the cheap, worn, living room sofa.

  “Paul, you really need to air this place out. It’s making my eyes water. And if I get stopped by a cop I’ll reek of dope and they’ll make me piss in a cup.”

  “What can I do for you, Detective Max Cool?” Baker asked ignoring the critique and using Max’s street name.

  There was a beat up coffee table in front of Max and Baker sat in a chair opposite his guest, the coffee table between them. Max took a piece of paper from his inside coat pocket and handed it to him.

  Baker unfolded it, read the names and information listed on it and said, “So, we have Cooper and Bethany and their three adorable girls, Kristi, Sophie and Abby.” He looked at Max and said, “Please tell me the ‘Beaver Cleaver’ family here isn’t as boring as I imagine.”

  “Probably worse,” Max said.

  Baker went back to the paper and read the note Max had made. “He’s a corporate lawyer, she’s a Stepford Wife and the three girls will all run screaming from them to become doper-hookers as soon as they find out what a nightmare they’re living.”

  “And I thought cops were cynical,” Max said.

  “What do you need?” Baker asked.

  “Everything you can get on them.”

  “Do you have social security numbers?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. I’ll get them from somewhere else. I’ll need them to get at his tax records.”

  “Do what you gotta do,” Max said. “The main focus is him. Everything you can get about the wife too, but mainly him.”

  “I’ll need some money.”

  “How much?”

  “Five,” Baker said.

  “No problem,” Max said. He pulled out his wallet, took out a five-dollar bill and held it out to him.

  “Ha, ha. Very funny. Five hundred.”

  “Two hundred,” Max said.

  “Five,” Baker repeated.

  “Three.”

  “Five. I have to eat,” Baker said. “Be thankful you’re not the Feds. I get a grand from them.”

  “Hang on,” Max said. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It was answered immediately.

  “Hey, Heather. I got a guy here who can cut to the chase and get us all the information we need on that guy we’re checking on.”

  “Do I want to know how?” Heather said.

  “No. He needs five hundred bucks. Can you get it?”

  Heather went silent for a moment thinking it over then said, “Yeah, I’ll get it. Can you pay him and I’ll reimburse you?”

  “Okay, will do. Thanks.” Max pulled two one hundred dollar bills from his wallet and set them on the coffee table. “Get going. I’ll find a TCF ATM and be back with the rest. How long will it take?”

  “How soon do you want it?”

  “An hour ago,” Max said.

  Baker shrugged and said, “As boring as the people sound, it shouldn’t take more than a couple hours. That is unless he’s in the CIA or something.”

  “No, nothing like that,” Max said. “What you see is what you get. Get going and I’ll be back.”

  Less than two hours later, Max slid into the passenger seat of Anna’s car
. They were parked on the street across from the parking ramp Cooper used. In Max’s hand was a large, manila envelope with the printouts of what Paul Baker had come up with on the Thomas family.

  Max looked at his watch and said, “Almost five. Let’s hope he’s not one of these workaholics who stay until nine every night. Is the kid still on station?”

  “Yeah, he is,” Anna said. She then used her handheld radio to check with Bret. He was still there and sounded as excited as a puppy as well.

  “What did your guy come up with?” Anna asked. “Did you read it all?”

  “No, I just scanned it over then came here,” Max answered as he removed the pages.

  For the next twenty minutes the two detectives read through the life of Cooper Thomas and his family. Max would read each document first then pass it to Anna.

  “These people are so boring they make watching paint dry sound like a good time,” Max remarked when he finished.

  “Makes a damn good living,” Anna said looking over his tax returns for the past three years.

  “No kidding. Six hundred and fifty grand a year. I could get by on that,” Max agreed.

  Anna’s radio beeped then they heard Bret say, “He’s almost at his car. Probably leaving for the day.”

  “Roger that,” Anna said. “We’ll pick him up when he comes out. You can take off. We’ll stay with him.”

  “Are you sure? I’ll be happy to help out,” the young cop volunteered.

  “It’s okay. He’s probably headed home. We’ll take it. Thanks,” Anna said.

  While this conversation took place, Max gathered up the documents and placed them back in the envelope. He got out of Anna’s car and made it back to his sedan just as Cooper Thomas drove out of the parking ramp. It was a one-way street so he had to drive past them as he left.

  Alternating positions and keeping cars between themselves and Cooper, they followed him home. By the direction he was heading, it was obvious where he was going. The detectives had his address but had never been to the house itself.

  Cooper had a home in Sunfish Lake, a very upscale suburb southeast of St. Paul. With a population of less than five hundred and fifty people, Sunfish Lake is one of the wealthiest communities in America. When they arrived, Anna got into the car with Max and hoped they looked inconspicuous.

  “We’re sticking out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood,” Anna said.

  “What do you figure that place costs?” Max asked. “Gotta be at least a million.”

  “A million five,” Anna said. “Three and a half acres, two hundred feet of shoreline. It was in the papers. Didn’t you see it?”

  “I must have missed it,” Max said.

  Max looked at his watch and said, “What do you think the over/under is for how long till a cop shows up wanting to know why a black man and a white woman are sitting here?”

  Anna laughed then said, “Five, six minutes maybe. Just for laughs, let’s find out.”

  It was a beautiful, sunny, late-afternoon day. They were parked under two large oak trees and believed they were sheltered from the houses scattered around the area. Despite being as unobtrusive as possible, Anna’s guess was off by barely fifteen minutes.

  “Here we go,” Max said with a smile as he looked in his rearview mirror. Anna’s car was behind them and Max saw the roof lights of the car that pulled up behind her. The sheriff’s deputy turned on the lights as he got out of his car to walk toward them, his hand on the butt of his handgun.

  “Good afternoon, Deputy,” Max politely said through the open window. He smiled at the Dakota County deputy sheriff and handed the younger man his shield and credentials. The deputy carefully scrutinized Max’s then looked over Anna’s while Max held them up for him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “We’re on the job,” Max said smiling.

  “Yeah, but what are you doing here?” he repeated.

  “We’re on the job,” Max said more seriously, the smile gone. “If you have a problem with that have your boss call the Ramsey County Attorney.”

  “Max,” Anna said bringing his attention to the Thomas’ driveway. Cooper Thomas, with his wife and three daughters, was driving away in his wife’s Mercedes Benz S550 SUV. Fortunately, Cooper paid no attention to the scene on the street. Instead, he turned right, away from Max, Anna and the deputy.

  “Gotta go,” Max said as he snatched his shield away from the deputy.

  “Hold on,” he tried to command them. “I want to know….”

  Anna leaned over the front seat and snarled, “If you blew our cover, I’m gonna have your balls. Now beat it.” Anna got out and hurried back to her car as Max pulled away to go after the Mercedes.

  For the next hour they continued to follow the Thomas family. What they hoped to find neither detective could explain. First, they went to a local Perkins restaurant for dinner. When they finished there, the detectives followed the family to a very nice, obviously successful, Lutheran Church.

  Max and Anna parked in the street alongside the church. After the Thomas’ went inside, Max walked over to Anna and leaned down to talk to her.

  “Following this guy around us pointless. He’s not going anywhere or doing anything. Besides, I think I know how to go at him.”

  “And I have a date,” Anna said.

  “Don’t tell me,” Max said. “You’re not really going to cougar that kid.”

  “It’s just a little dinner thing,” she sheepishly answered. “Besides, I’m not that old and he’s not that young.”

  “If he asks you to go into a liquor store and buy him some beer, you better get out of there,” Max laughed.

  “Very funny.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t wear the kid out. We may need to use him some more.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  “Good morning,” Max said to Anna as she dropped her purse on her desk. When they became partners, Anna moved her things to the desk opposite Max’s.

  “Don’t say a word, I don’t want to hear it,” she admonished him.

  “Relax,” Max smiled. “I wasn’t going to.”

  “Good!” she severely said. Then more softly, she added, “So, where are we?”

  “I called Heather at home last night while you were out trying to commit child abuse…”

  “I’m warning you!”

  “How did it go?” Max politely asked, quietly laughing.

  “I don’t see it happening again. He’s pretty and a really nice guy, but we have nothing in common,” she admitted. “What did Heather have to say?”

  “We’re to meet with her at ten o’clock. Here, I made a copy of everything we have on Cooper Thomas and family,” Max said as he tossed an envelope over to her. “I made a copy for Heather, too.”

  “When are you going to tell me who this guy is, the guy who came up with this stuff?”

  “We’ll see,” Max shrugged. “Trust me, it’s not you, it’s him. He doesn’t play well with humans.”

  Max and Anna patiently waited while Heather Anderson read through the documents. Half-way through, without averting her eyes from the papers, she asked, “How did you get all of this so quickly or don’t I want to know?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Max said.

  Heather looked at him over her glasses in a disapproving way and frowned.

  She continued reading and a couple minutes later said, “Holy shit! Look at this house!”

  “The photo doesn’t do it justice. It’s even nicer than that,” Anna said.

  “I have to get into private practice,” Heather said looking up for a moment. “I have a two bedroom, one bath condo I can barely afford.”

  “Yeah, but look at how much fun it is to put assholes in prison,” Max said.

  “That almost makes up for it,” Heather agreed while going back to the documents.

  Ten minutes later she finished reading and placed the paperwork and her glasses on her desk. She looked at Max and said, “You’re right.
I think I’ll stay where I am; putting assholes in prison. Compared to these two,” she continued tapping the documents with her index finger, “I lead a wild life.

  “How do we go at him?” Heather asked.

  “It’s right there,” Max said pointing at the papers. “It’s his life, his lifestyle.”

  “How long do you think he’ll hold out if we threaten to take it away from him?” Anna asked.

  Heather thought about it for a moment then said, “Not long. But we don’t have much leverage. We believe he falsified that affidavit about Mackenzie not knowing about the old man changing his Will. What if we’re wrong? What if we confront him with it and he sticks to his story because it’s true?”

  “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Max said.

  “Bullshit!” Heather said. “It could be our collective butts if we aren’t careful. This guy is an officer of the court, a lawyer in good standing and a partner in a prestigious firm. What we’re trying to do is coerce him into breaking client confidentiality by threatening him, probably with prison time. If he gets a lawyer and tells us to shove it, we could be looking for jobs.”

  “Well sure, if you’re gonna be negative and focus on just the dark side of things. But what could really be bad?” Anna said trying to lighten the mood.

  Max and Heather both laughed a little then Max said, “I saw the look on his face when Anna asked him about perjury and affidavits.”

  “He did it,” Anna interjected. “He lied when he signed it and he knows we know. His vanilla-bland, boring suburban life will look like a dream if he sees the image of himself picking up a bar of soap in a prison shower.”

  “Ah, what the hell,” Heather said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “We all end up standing on a street corner holding ‘Will work for food’ signs,” Max said.

  “See,” Heather said, “We’re worrying about nothing. How do you want to handle it?”

  “We pick him up and bring him in for questioning,” Max said.

  “And if he doesn’t want to come?”

  “We arrest him for suspicion of conspiracy to commit fraud,” Anna said.

  Heather thought it over then said, “Okay, but pick him up on the street. Do not drag him out of his office. The place is full of lawyers. Catch him when he’s alone, tomorrow morning when he arrives for work.”