The Defendants: Crime Fiction & Legal Thriller (Thaddeus Murfee Legal Thriller Series Book 1)
Page 1
The Defendants
Thaddeus Murfee Series Legal Thriller
John Ellsworth
Subjudica House
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Also by John Ellsworth (Avail. on Amazon)
Dedication
About the Author
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Copyright
Afterword
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Get a second best-selling novel FOR FREE. Signup for my email list and receive BEYOND A REASONABLE DEATH free, plus lots more exclusive content. Details can be found at the end of THE DEFENDANTS.
—John Ellsworth
1
She was standing at the ancient desk in his law office when she unbuttoned her blouse. She was wearing a white button-down Ralph Lauren, paisley tie, khaki slacks, penny loafers, and a red barrette to keep the pageboy cut off her face.
Ermeline Ransom was thirty-two, the mother of Jaime, authentic blond, pale blue eyes. Like most cocktail waitresses she was a little taller than average, had clear skin and full lips, and was proud of her work and proud of her ability to support her little boy by honest work. Until last night she had no tattoos, but now she had a mess.
She was divorced five years and collected no child support from the pipeline welder who roamed the Northeast dodging court orders. She worked the 2-10 shift as a cocktail waitress at the Silver Dome Inn and took in $250 a week, not counting tips. The tips were brought home and saved in a small safe she had bolted to the floor of the bedroom in her rented house.
Ermeline began by loosening the tie and raising it over her head like a noose. Next the blouse was unbuttoned, top to bottom. She was wearing what could only be a Victoria’s Secret bra, with its trademark structural engineering, icy red, that featured a green butterfly where the bra clasped in front. The butterfly held everything together and it separated, wings to the left, thorax to the right. The girl clicked the butterfly and her breasts spilled forward, freed at last, and pointed at Attorney Thaddeus Murfee like two pears, separate but equal. She shivered and looked away.
Thaddeus Murfee’s eyes bulged. “Good grief—who did this to you! Let me grab our camera!”
Thaddeus Murfee was twenty-five, unmarried, a member of Orbit’s Rotary and Moose, and a lawyer of eighteen months. He was tall enough to play point guard—which he had, on the Arizona Wildcats team that went to the Sweet Sixteen. A bowl cut kept his dark brown hair naturally in place, and the wire spectacles with their round frames gave him the look of a friendly owl. Or so his last girlfriend had said. They had broken up after he chose the Midwest over Los Angeles. She had opted for L.A., where her visual arts career could take root.
Thaddeus couldn’t believe his own eyes. Someone had taken a ballpoint and tattooed V-I-C-T-O-R into her breasts. Three letters per breast, each letter maybe two inches tall. The ballpoint had broken the skin and the cuts were deep and angry. There was mattered blood around the wounds.
Thaddeus was stunned. “Who did this?”
“Victor Harrow did this. While I was passed out.”
“You’re certain it was Victor?”
“That’s who I was drinking with. We were at his portable office.”
“The purple bus.”
“That’s the one.”
He knew it well. The bus said “Harrow and Sons” along the side. If Victor Harrow was in fact the one who had mutilated Ermeline Ransom then Victor was going to end up owing the woman a busload of money. The County would erupt over news like this. He would finally become known. A twinge of excitement thumped through his chest.
“Why would Victor do this?” Thaddeus said, coming back to reality.
“I think he did it because he knew he could get away with it. Some men are like that.”
Thaddeus frowned. It was more than a little difficult imagining Victor carving his name in anyone’s breasts. After all, Victor was a deacon at First Christian, the president of Orbit Rotary, and a Silver Star from Vietnam. He was a lot of things but an assailant of women? Thaddeus’ frown deepened. It was all very hard to imagine.
“I don’t know any men like that.”
“Then you don’t know men. Trust me. Victor Harrow is like that, especially when he’s three sheets.”
“Wait right here.” Thaddeus went around to the office door and swung it wide open. “Come in here, please,” he called to Christine, “and bring the firm camera with you.”
Christine complied, and in minutes had made her way to Thaddeus’ side. She was unclicking the camera case when she looked up. “Damn!” she cried. “What happened to you, girl?”
“Victor Harrow happened to me. Isn’t it lovely?” She woggled her breasts side to side.
Against his will, Thaddeus found himself growing aroused. “Now Christine, I’m going to go in the other room and get some coffee while you take a dozen pictures of Ermeline’s breasts. Shoot from across the desk, then side view, and then close ups. When I come back let’s everyone be buttoned up and ready to talk. Okay?”
“Got it,” said Christine.
Thaddeus was passing through Christine’s office/waiting room when the phone beeped. He quickly retraced his steps and picked up. “Thaddeus Murfee here. How can I help?”
“Thad, did she come over?” said Killen Erwin, Jr., the Hickam County District Attorney and Thaddeus Murfee’s best friend. “I sent her to see you because I sure as hell didn’t know what to do with her. Great tits, though, huh?” Killen loved raunchy cases like Ermeline’s.
“She came over. Thanks, I guess. Christine’s getting pictures right now.”
“Are you watching the show?”
“No, I’m here in Christine’s office, talking to you.”
“Oh, man, you should be in on taking the pictures.”
“No, chain-of-evidence. I want to be able to put Christine on the stand and ask her about the photos and establish chain-of-evidence.”
“So you’re thinking court?”
“I guess. Any ideas?”
“File suit against Victor Harrow, I guess. He’s got the bucks.”
“Are you going to prosecute him?”
“For what? He’ll just say she consented to it. How else does he get his whole damn name there? I mean if she was resisting he wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.”
“She says she was passed out.”
“That’s what she told me too. I’ve been to a lot of parties w
ith Ermeline. That girl can hold her booze. I can’t see her passed out. My guess is it was Vic who was passed out and Ermeline did it to herself to get into his bank account.”
“Damn you’re sick.”
“Why?”
“I’ll be over at the Dome for coffee around ten-fifteen. We can talk then. I don’t want them to hear me, out here. Bye.”
Thaddeus hung up and peeked into his office. From the backside Ermeline Ransom looked like a bat about to take flight. Her hands and arms were outstretched and her shirt was held wide open while the camera clicked and whirred. He poured a cup of coffee. He slowly counted to 200 and noisily went back inside. By now Christine and Ermeline were seated in the two client chairs side by side.
“Okay, Chris, you got them?”
Christine nodded. “I hope they’re okay. Front, side, top-down.”
Ermeline pulled a tissue from the box on Thaddeus’ desk. She dabbed at her eyes. “I showed Dr. Ahmad this morning. He tried alcohol but he said it’s too deep. Alcohol didn’t touch it.”
“Did he have any other suggestions?”
“Not really. He had a mom call in for labor and had to leave anyway. But his nurse gave me a tetanus shot. He left a prescription for pain pills. I haven’t filled it yet.”
Thaddeus gulped his coffee. “Did Christine offer you coffee or a drink when you came in?”
“I told her I was too upset to have anything. Look at my hands shake!”
“I can see that. You should be upset. But we’ll find someone who can do something about this. A dermatology doctor. Maybe it’s just a matter of some kind of skin peel or dermabrasion.”
“Dr. Ahmad said it’s too deep for that. I already asked.” Ermeline’s eyes welled up with tears again. She instinctively placed her hand across her breasts, which were protected once again by bra and shirt.
The young lawyer knew Ermeline Ransom was a good soul, a hard worker and a dedicated single mom. But just now her look was of grave confusion. Something had gone terribly wrong in her life and she didn’t know where to start to unravel it. She dabbed at the tears.
“Look, Ermeline, why don’t you take us through what happened. What was it Saturday night or last night?”
“Last night. Amateur night. I worked from two until ten at the Silver Dome. Lounge side.” Thaddeus nodded and scribbled a mental note. “You got off at ten on Sunday night?”
“Right. Bronco Groski comes on duty then, because Bruce wants someone there who’s tough enough to handle the rowdies. I’m only five-seven and 120 pounds so I don’t scare anyone.”
“Got it.” Thaddeus pulled out a yellow pad and scribbled his first notes.
“Ermeline, here’s a thought. I’m pretty new at lawyering. Which you know. You might want to have someone with more experience than me handle this. Like Jeremy down the street, or his partner Elvin, although Elvin really only wants to do estates. Jeremy used to be District Attorney and might really have a feel for this kind of case, where I’m still learning how to patty-cake.”
“I thought of that already. Trouble with everyone in town is they’re all in bed with Victor Harrow. Or they want to be. I bet having him for a client is every lawyer’s dream. He’s always getting someone hurt on a highway job, or not paying his subs, like he did to my dad, or making new investments and needing more legal papers drawn up. I’m even surprised you’re talking to me. You must want him for a client too.”
“I might at that. But he would never come to me, I’m too green.”
Victor Harrow was the richest, and thus the most respected, man in town. He did this? To this poor girl? Thaddeus felt the indignation rising.
“Now, let’s back up. What time did you get to work yesterday?”
“1:45 in the afternoon. Bruce was changing out the till and making a deposit before the bank deposit box closed.”
“What were you wearing?”
“What I always wear. Black mini and white peasant blouse. My hair was blown dry, held by a barrette, and I was wearing pretty heavy lip gloss. Smiles mean tips.”
“How’d you wind up at Vic Harrow’s office?”
She turned to the window. “Vic had been buying rounds for everyone. He always does. Some of the guys from his crews were there and they were kidding around and Vic was getting them drunk. A benefit of working for him.”
“Sure.”
“So around nine o’clock he’s in the hallway by the restrooms. I came out of the Ladies’ and he’s hitting the cigarette machine. He’s cursing. I told him I’d get Bruce to unlock it. He said okay. Then he said, Ermeline, I need your help tonight. I asked how. He said he had just heard his bid was accepted on a new State job and he was going to become a millionaire—again.”
“So he was trying to impress you. Was he trying to get in your pants?”
“That’s just Vic. He’s always saying what’s on his mind and he doesn’t mind who he’s saying it to. Maybe, maybe not.”
“But you left with him after you got off?”
“Over the next little while he kept buying rounds and asking me would I tag along to his office. He wanted to share a glass of champagne. He got pretty insistent. He said Betty Anne Harrow was out of town so he had no one to share the good news with. Honestly, he sounded very lonely.”
“So you volunteered.”
“Color me stupid. I guess you could say I volunteered. Vic leaves huge tips for all the girls. What’s not to love about Vic and his money? We want him to keep coming back.”
“So you volunteered but you were also feathering your nest a little?”
“A little, yes. I called my babysitter and she called her folks, would it be okay for her to stay an extra half hour. She’s fifteen and it’s past curfew, but her parents have no objection. So I tell Victor I’ll follow him out to the bus but only for a half hour, one drink, and then I was off.”
“Was that okay with him?”
“His eyes lit up. He smiled that huge smile of his. I felt like I had made his night.”
“You followed him in your car?”
She turned away from the window and looked Thaddeus in the eye. “I followed in my car. I had no intention of staying a minute past ten-thirty and I wanted my own ride out of there. Swear to God.”
“I’m sure that’s true. So what happened once you got to the bus?”
“We went inside. He turned on some lights. He had me wait on the sofa while he poured us a tumbler of champagne. He brought it to me, we toasted. That’s when someone knocked on the door. It sounded like the rear door of the bus. Vic went over to the window and looked out. ‘Be right back,’ he said. He disappeared down the hall.
“I heard talking but muffled. Then there was brief shouting, angry sounding. Then a man I’ve never seen before. He came in with Vic close behind. ‘Meet Johnny Bladanni,’ Vic says and I stand up and stick out my hand. He takes my hand. Then—of all things—he kisses my hand. I was mortified, that’s not how we do things in Orbit.”
“What did you find out about Johnny Bladanni?”
“He was down from Chicago on business with Victor. He was only staying ten or fifteen minutes. Victor told him to help himself to some champagne. Mr. Bladanni asked if I needed a refill, I said ‘No,’ but he insisted and almost yanked it out of my hand. Still smiling all the time. He was very smooth, very oily, very Chicago.”
“Got it. So he got you a drink?”
“He did. Then we had a three-way toast to Victor’s new business.”
Thaddeus looked up from his scribbling. His notes covered two pages of the yellow pad. “What happened next? Give all the details you can remember.”
“Next? I woke up, it was black outside, and my breasts were like on fire.”
“And you did what?”
“I switched on the light over the couch. My blouse was pulled down and my bra was around my neck all tangled up. I saw my chest and screamed.”
“Did Vic come when you screamed?”
“No. In fact I never did see
Vic again. He might have left me there alone, for all I know.”
“How do you know it was Vic who did this to you and not Johnny Oily Guy?”
“Why would anyone carve someone else’s name in a girl’s breasts? Just doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“Not that I have that kind of experience, but no, I guess it doesn’t. So we’re pretty sure it was Vic.”
“When I left there were no other cars. Just Vic’s truck and my car. Johnny Bladanni wasn’t around. Besides, I was too terrified to pay much attention. All I wanted to do was get the hell out of there and get home and check on Jaime.”
“You needed to see Jaime.”
“That was my only thought. I wasn’t thinking about what had happened to me or why. I could only think about my little boy who I’d abandoned. My watch said a little after four a.m. As soon as I got on Washington I tore home.”
“You had been there maybe six and a half hours.”
“Something like that.”
“What happened next?”
“Got home, found the babysitter asleep on the couch—with her mom, God bless her. Went tearing into Jaime’s room. Sound asleep, hugging his teddy bear. I felt horrible and couldn’t explain what had happened. The mom was insanely angry with me and thought I’d been out on an all-night hoot. I started crying and trying to explain but she wasn’t listening by now. She’s shoving her daughter out the door. ‘Never again,’ she said as the door slammed. ‘Never again.’”
“Which only made you feel worse.”
She nodded and tears rolled down her cheeks. “I felt like the world’s worst mother! I had no idea what happened to me.”
“What did you do next?”
“I found some cigarettes in the back of the kitchen drawer. Salems. I don’t smoke but that didn’t stop me. I lit up and stood at the kitchen sink. I was smoking and crying. I had to keep it soft for Jaime’s sake.”
“Did you call anyone?”
“Who’s there to call?”
“The cops?”
“No.”
“Why not.”
“My first idea, once I put out the cigarette, was get in the shower and see if the ink came off. I also needed to see if I had been raped.”