“So, am I coming up?” they heard the man ask.
“Not tonight. It’s already late and I have to get up early. Let’s go somewhere this weekend,” she said.
“How about we go camping? We could go up North. Spend the day hiking Gunflint…”
At that point Rask shut off the recording and said, “The rest is just them fooling around a little more, then she gets out and he takes off.”
Corbin looked at Walter Pascal, the man’s boss and clearly annoyed said, “You knew about this and…”
“How do you think Ethan found out? I went right to him,” Pascal said.
“Sorry. I’m sorry, Walter. I didn’t mean …”
“It’s okay, Boss,” Pascal said, “You got a bug in his car?”
“Last night,” Rask said. “We’ve got his phones, car, apartment and pretty much everything wired.”
“What about this guy? Will he let it go or will he keep digging?” Victor Espinosa asked Walter.
Walter hesitated for a moment knowing his answer was crucial to his subordinate’s future and possibly his life. He finally said, “I’m not sure. We could keep an eye on him.”
“What about the other guy he talked to, this Rob Judd?” Rask asked.
“He’s exceptional,” Corbin Reed interjected. “He consistently gets the highest yields in the department and has a sharp eye for convertible bonds that he turns into very profitable equities. He’s been terrific for the cash flow we need.”
“I can keep an eye on him too,” Rask said, “but it didn’t sound like he was interested in what McGarry, the guy on the tape, asked him about.”
“Okay,” Corbin said. “That’ll do for now. Anything else? Good. Let’s get at it. The clock keeps ticking and we’re still on schedule.”
Two days later, Friday morning, the five of them met again only this time across the hall in 2007 in a windowless, secure conference room. When they finished discussing the business of the firm, Rask pulled open the same laptop they had listened to the illegal recording on and he again placed it on the table. Rask hit the play button and a video appeared on screen.
The five of them watched and listened for twenty minutes to a conversation between two of their employees in a semi-crowded downtown bar. They were in the patio area seated opposite each other on the end of a long picnic table. The camera and microphone were in a woman’s purse on the next table barely five feet away with an excellent view of the two men.
The man on the left was Patrick McGarry, the same man recorded in his car with his girlfriend three nights ago. The second man, his white shirtsleeves rolled up and his tie loosened, was McGarry’s co-worker, Rob Judd.
Rask stopped the film and said, “I’ve fast forwarded to get to the relevant part. Most of the stuff before this is just what you’d expect from a couple of guys having a beer or two after work.”
“Who filmed this?” Walter Pascal asked.
“That’s not important,” Corbin answered him.
Rask started the film again and McGarry asked Rob, “You don’t think the returns they’re getting are a little too good to be true? The market’s been on a roller coaster for months.”
Judd set his empty beer glass down, looked at McGarry and asked, “How do you know what they’ve been paying for returns?”
“I’ve heard some things on the street from competitors. People saying CAR Securities is getting a steady fourteen to fifteen percent ROI. I have friends at other firms who have told me their customers want to know how we can do it and they can’t. Their customers would move their money to us if they could, but Corbin won’t let them.
“I’ll tell you something else,” McGarry continued, “I’ve checked into some of our securities, the mortgage-backed securities, and they’re bullshit.”
“What do you mean, bullshit?” Judd asked.
“I mean they aren’t what they’re supposed to be. They are all supposed to be triple and double A only and they’re not. All of them have B-level ratings in them.”
“Are you sure?” Judd asked. “That’s a serious charge and…”
“I know it is and I can prove it. I’m going to Walter with it and ask him about it. I’m telling you, something’s very wrong.”
“Well, let me know what Walter says. There’s got to be a mistake somewhere. These guys aren’t stupid.”
“I will,” McGarry agreed.
The waitress brought Judd another beer and made a little too much of a show telling him that whatever he wants he should just ask.
“I hate that,” McGarry said. “Women just fall all over you. It’s disgusting.”
“Animal magnetism,” Judd smiled. “Look,” he continued, “I like my job, I like where I work. I like the people and the small firm atmosphere. I don’t know what kind of returns they pay and I don’t care. Besides, your friends are probably blowing smoke up your ass or their clients are. As for me, I make a damn good living, I have a nice home, a beautiful girlfriend and I’m not going to make waves again. I did that once and it was a nightmare.”
“You did? When and where?”
“Forget I said that,” Judd continued clearly regretting what he said. “Besides I’ll tell you something, I’m a really smart guy. I know that. But when I talk to Jordan about business stuff, he makes me feel like an idiot. He’s off the charts smart. He doesn’t try to make you feel like a moron— you know him,he’s too nice for that—you just can’t help it. If anybody can beat the market and get steady, top returns, it’s him.”
McGarry paused for a moment, took a swallow of his beer then said, “Maybe, but I’m not gonna get caught in the switches. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open to make sure I keep my own ass covered.”
“There’s nothing going on. I’m taking off,” Judd said as he finished his beer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Rask shut off the recording and Pascal said, “I’ll fire him, today.”
“Let me think about it,” Corbin said. “Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.”
“Maybe we try to convince him there’s nothing going on,” Victor Espinosa said.
“Let’s take the weekend to think about it. Think of a way to calm him down,” Corbin said. “I need to talk to Ethan for a minute, guys. Give us the room will you please?”
When the other three had left and closed the door to the soundproofed room, Corbin said to Rask, “I want that little asshole taken care of this weekend.”
“Yeah, I figured that. It’s all set. I can do this myself. I’ll get him up North. Don’t worry.”
On page four of the Sunday Minneapolis Star Tribune, there was a short, three-paragraph article about a young couple being killed in a hiking accident. It looked to investigators that the woman, whose name and her companion’s were withheld until notification could be made, probably tripped and went over a ledge. The man likely tried to grab her and she dragged him over with her. The pair fell a hundred feet to a rocky stream bed they were hiking above.
FOUR
“Mr. Grant,” the executive assistant for Executive Vice President Blake Grant of 3M Company said through the phone’s intercom, “There’s a Marc Kadella on the phone for you. Says it’s personal but you would know what it’s about.”
“I do, Jen, and thank you. Put him through, please,” he said.
A moment later Marc’s voice came through the phone, “Blake Grant, please.”
“Mr. Kadella? This is Blake Grant.”
“Please, call me Marc. Tony Carvelli gave me your number and asked me to give you a call. Tony told me your son has a problem. Tell me a bit about it.”
Grant took a few minutes to give Marc a brief rundown of the arrest and his son’s history. When he finished there was silence between them.
“Are you still there?” Grant asked.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I was making some notes,” Marc apologized. “How much was bail?”
“Half a million dollars,” Grant said.
“I’m a little surprised they set
bail that high.”
“I was in the courtroom. He didn’t have a lawyer, he had a public defender.”
“Public defenders are lawyers and are mostly very good ones,” Marc softly said.
“Of course. Sorry. I was there and the prosecutor convinced the judge that Kenny is a flight risk.”
“Is he?” Marc asked.
“No, of course not. He did have a couple of missed court appearances in the past.”
“That explains it. Is he wearing a bracelet on his ankle? A monitor?” Marc asked.
“Yes. Tony told me you don’t like to take drug cases. Is that true?”
“In general, yeah. But it’s getting harder and harder because drugs are so prevalent in almost all criminal activity these days,” Marc said.
“Will you take his case? I certainly know of your reputation from cases you’ve done that the media has covered.”
“Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. The first thing I need to do is meet him and you. Tony told me you would be responsible for the fees.”
“If that’s all right,” Grant said.
“Sure, but I’ll need to meet with you and Kenny to discuss it.” Marc pulled his calendar up on his computer screen and said, “How about tomorrow at 2:00? Can you make it?”
“We’ll be there,” Grant said.
Marc gave him his office address then Grant said, “He’s really not a bad kid. He’s just well…”
“Has a drug problem. That’s one of the things we’ll talk about. I look forward to meeting you. See you tomorrow.”
“Wait, wait a second. There is one other thing I meant to tell you,” Grant quickly said before Marc could hang up.
“What’s that?”
“Well, I don’t know if this means anything, but Kenny swears he’s innocent. He swears he was not holding any drugs and the cop planted them. I know you’ve heard that a thousand times but not once has Kenny tried to duck his responsibility. He’s never claimed he was innocent before. I just thought you should know.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Marc replied while thinking, first time for everything. “Bring any paperwork you have.”
“Will do.”
“And make sure Kenny calls the probation people who are monitoring his movements and gets permission to come here.”
Marc took a moment to enter the appointment onto his computer which would also be put on the computer of everyone else in the office. The office sharing was such a casual arrangement that everyone answered phones and made appointments for each other. They all needed each other’s calendar for when this happened.
The Grants arrived the next morning twenty minutes early. The father looked exactly the part of a mid-fifties corporate exec; a dull blue suit, striped tie, black loafers. Kenny was an obviously twenty-something slacker who could use a 2x4 across the forehead once a day just to make sure he was paying attention. Not a bad young man, simply more interested in a good time than hard work.
Marc brought them into his office and they all took their respective chairs. Blake sat to Marc’s left, Kenny to his right.
“I didn’t do this one…” Kenny started to say.
Marc held up his right hand and Blake gently placed his left hand on his son’s right arm.
“Allow me to be brutally honest,” Marc said. “The simple truth is: I don’t care whether you did it or not. It doesn’t matter what I believe, it only matters what they can prove and if I can create reasonable doubt.”
“Let’s go,” Kenny said to his dad visibly annoyed.
“No,” Blake said.
“Kenny,” Marc began again, “Your dad told me that you believe the cop planted the drugs. We’ll definitely hire an investigator and look into it. Now, tell me what happened.”
Kenny quickly and concisely went through the stop and search by the two St. Paul cops. He had failed to signal a turn from Rice Street onto Pennsylvania Avenue a few blocks north of the Capitol. The cop pulled him over, searched his car and found the drugs underneath the front passenger seat.
Kenny had given Marc what little paperwork he had. Marc looked it over and said, mostly to himself, “No police report or arrest record. Did they tell you why they were searching the car?”
“No,” Kenny said shaking his head. “I sat in the cop car with the young guy while the older one searched the car. The older guy’s name is Kubik….”
“You know him?” Marc asked.
“Yeah, I know him. He’s an asshole. He busted me once before and tried to turn me into a snitch. I wouldn’t do it.”
“Is he a uniform cop or…” Marc started to ask.
“No, no,” Kenny said. “He’s a detective. So’s the other guy.”
“The other guy,” Marc said, “the other detective could see into your car to see what this Kubik was doing?”
“No, no way. We were in their car parked too far back. Kubik planted the drugs. I wouldn’t snitch for him and he was pissed about it. Sorry, Dad,” he said to Blake.
“It’s okay, son,” Blake said. “What do you think?” he asked Marc.
Marc shrugged his shoulders but before he could say anything, Kenny blurted out, “I’m telling the truth. Dad, I want a lawyer that believes me!”
“Kenny, relax,” Marc said. “Your story sounds credible. Let me look into it. I’ll get the police reports and arrest records. I’ll set up what’s called an omnibus hearing for about three weeks from now.”
“What happens then?” Blake asked.
“We’ll find out what evidence they have and put the cops on the stand to testify about why they stopped him and the search,” Marc said then looked at Kenny. “It does smell a little fishy. Why are two detectives stopping anyone for a traffic infraction then do a search and conveniently find drugs in sale weight amounts?”
“What about money? Your fees,” Blake asked.
Marc smiled then said, “I’ll give you the Tony Carvelli retainer discount since he assures me you’re good for it. I’ll take five thousand to bill against at three hundred per hour. I’m also going to hire an investigator…”
“Tony?” Blake asked.
“No, a woman I’ve worked with. Don’t worry, she’s good. If anybody can get cops to talk and find out what this Kubik guy is up to, she can. Tony’s always available if I need something from him. He’s a busy guy but he will help on anything I ask him for.
“There’s something else I need to get clear with you, Blake. Please don’t be insulted, but paying the fees doesn’t give you the right to call the shots,” Marc said then held up his hand to cut off the father’s protest. He softly continued by saying, “Please hear me out. I don’t mean to imply you would and from what Tony told me I don’t think it will be a problem. But it happens. Especially in divorce cases where mom or dad is paying the fees for a young woman. Kenny is my client and he is the decision maker.”
“I get that absolutely. Don’t worry. Is it okay for him to tell me what is going on? To keep me informed?” Blake asked.
Marc thought for a moment then said, “Probably not. He’s my client and what is said between us is absolutely confidential. But that does not cover you. If he were to admit something to you, you could be forced to testify. Tell you what, if you want to come to these meetings and court hearings, feel free to do so. If I think we may discuss something I don’t want you to hear, I’ll simply ask you to leave the room. Will that be okay?”
“That will be fine,” Blake said.
“Good,” Marc replied.
While he wrote a check, Marc filled out a retainer agreement for Kenny to sign. He also had Blake sign a document guaranteeing the fees.
Marc also gave Kenny a list of drug rehab centers and clinics and told him to get evaluated and to enroll if they recommended it.
“What do you think, Mr. Kadella?” Kenny asked.
Marc paused for a moment before saying, “Kenny, don’t take this personally, okay? Right now I’ve heard your story. Let me find out what the cops have to s
ay. I’ll say this, without seeing a list of all of the charges, if this Kubik guy has it in for you, you’re looking at a lot of jail time.”
“How long?” Kenny quietly asked.
“Relax, you haven’t done anything yet. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
“Do you have anything else?” Marc asked both men. “I’ll be in touch,” he added when both shook their heads. “Okay, let me get started.”
When the two men left Marc got right to it. He called the Ramsey County Attorney’s office and spoke with the lawyer handling the case, a woman by the name of Gloria Fenton. Marc didn’t know her and while talking to her made a note to have Maddy check her out.
Fenton agreed to fax the discovery to him after Marc emailed a Notice of Appearance to let her and the court know he represented Kenny Blake.
Later, while he was reading through the police report, Maddy arrived.
“We have a juicy murder case?” she asked as she sat down.
“No, sorry. Tony’s drug case. The one he told us about at lunch.”
Marc quickly brought her up to speed on the case then told her what he wanted.
“I want you to check out these two cops and find out what you can on the prosecutor,” he said as he handed her a sheet of paper with their names on it.
“Dale Kubik,” she quietly said while looking at the name. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“He was one of the original investigating cops on the Bob Sutherland homicide,” Marc reminded her. “When Mackenzie shot him in her living room.”
“Who’s this Richie Newsom? His partner?”
“Guess so. The woman on there,” Marc said referring to the sheet of paper she held, “is Kubik’s former partner, Anna Finney. She was also at Mackenzie Sutherland’s.”
“Yeah, her I remember. And Max Coolidge. Okay, I’ll get going,” she said.
“You need some money?” Marc asked.
“No, I’m okay for now. I’ll see you later.”
FIVE
The first thing Maddy did after leaving Marc’s office was to place a call to Tony Carvelli. Maddy had not been in Minnesota as long as Carvelli and had nowhere near the number of connections he did, especially in St. Paul. Maddy lived and worked out of Minneapolis. Despite their close proximity, the two cities were distinctly different and almost different worlds.
Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series) Page 224
