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Desperate Justice

Page 2

by Dennis Carstens


  Her nephew, her younger brother’s son Robert Martin Corwin IV, better known as Bob, had been an embarrassment to the family for years. Drinking, gambling, drugs and loose women were not what a Corwin was expected to spend his time, money and family name on. Secretly Vivian was relieved he was dead, but family being what it was, she had made her wishes known, through one of the family lawyers, to the Hennepin County Attorney’s office that justice needed to be swift and sure.

  The County Attorney himself, Craig Slocum, being up for re-election this very year and knowing he could use Vivian Donahue as an ally, had assured her that the two men responsible had been found and a long prison term was a certainty.

  Two days following the bail hearing, Marc Kadella received the call from Dolan. He was in his office, the one he rented from one of his officemates, Connie Mickelson, his landlord and good friend, when one of the secretaries buzzed him to let him know Dolan was on the phone for him. Marc listened for fifteen minutes to Dolan’s explanation then he agreed to come to Dolan’s St. Paul office and meet with him and the two defendants.

  Marc grabbed his suit coat from the hook on the back of his office door, picked up a briefcase and went into the reception area to find the entire office standing around waiting for him. There was a ten second silence during which they all stared at him and he looked them over with a puzzled expression. It was Connie who broke the awkward silence and asked, “What’s up with you and Dolan? Are you going to get too famous for the rest of us?”

  “Very funny,” Marc replied.

  “So what did he want?” asked another of the lawyers in the office, Chris Grafton.

  “He’s got a case with co-defendants and he’s asked me to take one of them and co-counsel,” Marc said. “It could be a good deal. Says I could get a decent check out of it and he’d do the heavy lifting. Besides, I could learn some things doing a trial with him.”

  “From what I’ve heard, he could learn a few things from you about ethics and honesty,” Marc heard one of the secretaries, Carolyn Lucas, say.

  “Now, now, Mrs. Cop’s Wife,” Marc said to her in reply while waving an index finger at her and smiling. “Judge not, less ye be judged, or however that goes.”

  “Great,” Sandy, the other secretary, said laughing. “A lawyer quoting the Bible. That’s priceless.”

  “Be a little sensitive. I have feelings,” Marc replied.

  “Just the same,” Connie interjected. “His reputation is well deserved. Don’t turn your back on him and remember who you represent. You know who Leo Balkus is?”

  “Yeah,” Marc answered. “I know who he is. And I know Dolan is his lawyer, so?”

  “Just be careful,” Connie said. “It’s the Corwin case, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, why?” Marc answered.

  “I hear those two jamokes that got arrested are Leo’s guys,” Connie said. “Just be careful. Remember who Dolan works for and it’s not those two idiots. His first priority will be to protect Leo.”

  “How do you know that?” Barry Cline, another one of the lawyers that shared office space with Marc, asked.

  “I know people and hear things,” Connie said.

  “No, no,” Marc said, holding up a hand to Barry. “She’s got a point. I’ll keep it in mind, Connie. And thanks. I better go,” he continued as he headed toward the door.

  THREE

  Marc followed the shapely, young receptionist toward the back of the suite of offices until they came to what was obviously a conference room. She opened the door and stood aside for him and as he entered the room, she said, “Bruce will join you in just a few minutes. There’s coffee and water for you. I’m sure it won’t be long.” She turned to leave and the two men seated at the oval-shaped conference table both tilted their heads to watch her as she closed the door.

  Marc introduced himself to the men, reaching across the table to shake hands. As he took one of the very comfortable, slightly over-stuffed leather chairs across from them, the larger of the two men said, “So, you must be the lawyer Bruce found to represent me.”

  “That’s up to you, not Bruce,” Marc replied to Butch Koll. “He asked me if I’d be interested and I said I’d come and meet you. Whether or not I represent you will be your call and mine. Not his.”

  “Okay,” Butch said. “Bruce says you’re pretty good. You did that serial killer case last year.”

  “I remember that,” Ike interjected snapping his fingers. “You got him off. You did good work on that case, counselor.”

  “Thanks,” Marc replied with a slight shrug, silently pleased with the compliment even if it came from a career criminal.

  At that moment Dolan came in through the door and stepped right up to Marc, extended his hand to shake and said, “Sorry to keep you waiting. You’ve met our clients?” he asked nodding toward Ike and Butch as he walked to the head of the table and pulled out a chair.

  As he did so, Marc looked him over and was again as impressed as the first time he had seen the man. Dolan stood six foot three and weighed a trim two hundred pounds. He had dark hair with just the right touch of gray at the temples and in his mid-fifties looked to be in great shape. About ten years ago, Marc sat in the gallery of a trial Bruce was conducting. Marc had spent several days watching him and the prosecutor of the case, who was also a terrific trial lawyer himself, dueling with each other. Marc could no longer remember much about the case, but he had learned a lot from both of them.

  “Have we met?” Dolan asked him as he took his seat at the head of the table. “You look familiar.”

  “We had lunch at the same table at a CLE seminar a couple years ago.”

  “Sure,” Dolan said snapping his fingers in recognition. “Now I remember. You were sitting next to Judge Tennant. Anyway, these are for you,” he continued as he handed a stack of papers to Marc. “Police reports, witness statements that the cops got from the people in the bar. Prelim autopsy report.”

  “How’d he die?” Marc asked.

  “Crushed larynx.”

  “Interesting,” Marc replied while thinking, “who commits murder by crushing someone’s larynx?” while his eyes shifted to Butch who sat impassively looking back at Marc.

  “I need to talk to Mr. Koll alone if you don’t mind,” Marc said.

  “I knew you would,” Dolan replied. “Tell you what, Ike and I will go to my office and you two can use this room. Take all the time you need. I’m down the hall in the corner. Just let me know when you’re done,” Dolan said as he and Ike got up to leave.

  Marc spent fifteen minutes quickly scanning the police report, giving a cursory look through the stack of witness statements and not bothering with the preliminary autopsy report at all. If he took the case the final report would be more thorough and informative.

  “First of all,” Marc began. “Even if you don’t hire me to represent you, anything said between us is covered by attorney-client privilege.”

  “I know that,” Butch said. “Where do you want to start?”

  “You understand that I will be there to represent you, but this is one case, one trial. Dolan will be the guy running the show and I’ll just be along for the ride to protect your interest. His client will be Ike…”

  “His client will be Leo,” Butch said. “Even if he isn’t charged, that’s who Dolan is looking out for.”

  “Very likely,” Marc said, smiling and impressed with the man’s perception. “But Leo’s interest and yours and Ike’s are basically the same, at least, so far.”

  “So far,” Butch agreed.

  “Okay, here it is,” Marc continued. “I’ll take the case, but I work for you, not Dolan, not Leo or Ike. I’ll be your lawyer and no matter where the money comes from, you are the client and ultimately responsible for paying me. Okay?”

  “Sure,” Butch said. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  “I got a check coming today,” Marc said as he pulled two sheets of paper from his briefcase. He slid one of them across the table to Butch
and continued, “I’m not even sure how much it is. Here’s a retainer agreement. I’ll bill at $250 per hour against the check I get today and when that’s used up, I’ll need more.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Marc. Can I call you Marc?” Butch said as he signed the document and passed it back across the table.

  “Of course,” Marc replied. “I have a copy for you. When I get the check, I’ll fill in the amount and give you this copy. Now,” Marc said, folding his hands on the table top and looking directly at his client. “This is just something to think about. It probably won’t happen, but it might. If you had to, to save your own ass, would you cut a deal and testify against Ike or Leo? Before you answer, in case you’re wondering, I met Bruce once and I’ve never met Leo. I am your lawyer, period. You don’t even have to answer me. Just think about it.”

  “I don’t know you well enough yet to answer that question,” Butch replied.

  “Fair enough,” Marc said.

  About an hour later, after Marc had received his retainer by a check drawn on Dolan’s Trust account and Marc and Butch had left, Leo, Ike and Dolan listened to the recording of the conversation they had made from the bug in the conference room. They listened for a third time then Leo asked Dolan, “What do you think?”

  “I was right about Kadella. He’s even quicker than I expected. This should work out just fine,” the lawyer replied.

  FOUR

  Three weeks later, on an unusually warm mid-April afternoon, Marc found himself in the chambers of the judge assigned to try the case, Judge J. Gordon Prentiss III. Prentiss was the same judge who had tried Marc’s career making serial killer case the year before. On the day Marc had received the judicial assignment notice in the mail and had seen who had been assigned the case, he was on the phone to Bruce Dolan within seconds to advise Dolan to file a removal notice on Prentiss. Marc had argued strenuously against Prentiss whom Marc found to be totally biased against his client the year before. Plus, Prentiss had a well-deserved reputation among the defense bar as being pro-prosecution. Marc believed Prentiss had done everything he could to help the prosecution obtain a guilty verdict to help placate the Governor and had been sorely displeased when the charges had been dismissed. Since then, Marc had tried to stay out of the courtroom of this clearly biased judge. Dolan had literally laughed it off and assured Marc that Prentiss would do just fine and not to worry about it which again caused the little alarm bell to go off in his head.

  Along with the judge were Dolan and two lawyers from the county attorney’s office. The four of them were involved in a pretrial conference, primarily discussing discovery requests while Ike and Butch cooled their heels in the judge’s empty courtroom.

  “Well Mr. Dolan, are you satisfied you have received your entire discovery?” the judge began when the court reporter let him know she was ready.

  “It looks like it, your Honor. And I must say they have a pretty weak case. They have witnesses who saw them leave the bar with the deceased and nothing else. Very little in the way of forensics, no prints, no witnesses that can place them in the alley where the body was found. No motive, a time of death that could be as much as a half-hour after they left the bar…”

  “Are you serious?” interrupted Susan Boyce, the lead attorney from the prosecutor’s office. “We have two well known arm-breakers of Leo Balkus. A dead man, with a gambling and drug problem, whose family members will testify he came to them constantly for money to pay those debts, debts that he owed to someone they will identify as Leo. Your two choir boys out there,” she continued pointing toward the courtroom, “have long and distinguished arrest and conviction records for similar crimes. Your boys are going down.”

  “Your Honor, I move to dismiss all charges for lack of sufficient evidence,” Dolan said as he handed the judge a copy of his motion pleadings and then handed a copy to Boyce.

  “Denied. There is sufficient evidence to allow the case to go forward,” the judge ruled when he finished looking over Dolan’s pleadings. “But,” he continued, “it does seem a little thin.” This was a remark that caught Marc’s attention knowing Prentiss’s reputation for being tough on criminal defendants.

  “I am also moving the court to disallow any reference to either defendant’s alleged criminal history as irrelevant, not probative and far too prejudicial,” Dolan continued.

  “That one I’ll take under advisement. Ms. Boyce, I’ll give you until a week from today to answer defendant’s motion to suppress their history. I’ll want a complete record of that history to go over and I’ll rule as quickly as possible.”

  “Yes, your Honor,” she answered.

  “Anything else?” the judge continued. “No? Good, now about a trial date. It’s now mid-April and I don’t want to drag this thing out through the summer. Like all good civil servants I want to take some vacation. How long to try it?”

  “At least a month,” Boyce said. “We have quite a few witnesses to put on to place them in the bar with the deceased.”

  “What about it, Mr. Dolan? Do we really have to drag all of these people into this just to place your guys in the bar?”

  “I’ll tell you what, judge, we’ll stipulate they left the bar with Corwin if she will stipulate that none of her witnesses went outside with them and have no idea what may or may not have taken place in that alley.”

  “I want to put on at least four of the people in that bar. The jury needs to hear it from them,” she replied.

  “Mr. Dolan?” the judge asked.

  “Okay,” Dolan replied knowing it was about the best he could get.

  “What about Corwin’s family members?” the judge asked Boyce.

  “There are at least twenty who he hit up for money to pay someone he knew as Leo for gambling and drug debts. Then I’m calling an FBI agent who will testify Leo is Leo Balkus, a well known…”

  “Hold it,” Dolan almost shouted. “First of all, any mention of a guy named Leo by any family members is inadmissible hearsay. And as for an FBI agent dragging rumors into this…”

  “Settle down,” the judge said holding up a hand to stop Dolan. “There will be no such witness in this trial unless you have a conviction against Balkus, which I know for a fact you don’t have. If you want any testimony from an FBI agent or anyone else about Balkus, you bring a motion no later than two weeks before trial and be prepared to have a solid link between these two defendants and Mr. Balkus.”

  “Yes, your Honor,” a chastened Boyce replied.

  “Good, now,” he continued. “Trial will commence the first Monday of June. I can’t see why this should take more than two weeks. There really isn’t much evidence here,” he finished saying while looking at Boyce and her co-counsel, Mike Lundgren. “Any problems with that date?”

  “No, your Honor,” both lead attorneys replied in unison.

  “I want any motions brought, all discovery completed, including witness lists, no later than May 27. Any questions? Okay, I guess that’s it for today then. Thanks for coming,” the judge said in conclusion.

  As the four of them were walking through the courtroom to leave by way of the hallway doors, Boyce walked up to Ike and Butch as the two men stood. She waited for Dolan and Marc to get to their clients and said to the two defendants, “Okay boys, here it is. One of you and only one of you gets the sweet deal. First one to flip gets a few months on the county. The other one gets thirty years in Oak Park Heights.”

  “No one’s taking any deals,” Dolan said with obvious annoyance. “In the future, you want to talk to our clients, you do it through me.”

  “I can’t trust you to pass along the offer even though you’re ethically obligated to,” she calmly replied. “You probably would,” she continued while looking at Marc. “But I know for a fact you’ve withheld that from other clients,” she said to Dolan.

  “Hey, who the hell are you…” he began.

  “How many months on the county?” Ike asked.

  “Ike, shut up,” Dolan said.


  “What’s the difference?” Boyce said with a smirk as she turned and walked through the exit door.

  On the way down in the elevator, none of the four men said a word. They reached the second floor and Marc and Butch said their goodbyes to Dolan and Ike. When the two of them got outside the government center building, Butch turned to Marc and said, “We need to talk this over.”

  “Yes, we do,” Marc replied. “Those guys, Leo, Ike and Dolan will throw you under the bus in a heartbeat.”

  “Looks like it,” Butch said.

  “Follow me back to my office. We can talk there.”

  FIVE

  They parked their cars in the little lot behind Marc’s building then went in through the back door. Butch followed Marc up the stairs to the second-floor suite of offices. They entered through the main office doors and interrupted Connie talking to Carolyn and Sandy. The three women turned their heads and without a word, looked over Butch as if sizing up a prime slab of beef. In addition to his chiseled physique, Butch had the looks that made attracting girls and women since a very early age the envy of most men.

  Marc opened his office door for his client, stepped out of his way and looked at the three women as if he had never seen them before, a little puzzled by their reaction to Butch. He stepped into his office and said, “Grab a chair and we’ll talk,” as he closed the door, hung his suit coat on the back of it, then took his seat behind his desk.

  “Okay,” Marc said, stretching his arms above his head. “Since it looks like Ike, Leo and Dolan are about to toss you to the wolves, what are you thinking?”

  “I think you’re right. I think Ike will do whatever he has to do to protect Leo which means I’m up to my ass in alligators.”

  “Unless you beat him to the prosecutors,” Marc replied. “So maybe you better tell me exactly what happened that night.”

 

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