Desperate Justice

by Dennis Carstens

  “How?” Vivian asked.

  “I’ll get them from him. I’ll think of something when I go in to serve him Marc’s subpoena.”

  “This sounds too risky. Too dangerous,” Vivian protested.

  “She can go into the bar at his restaurant. Serve him there. I’ll get backup for her. I know some people. Besides, she can take care of herself.”

  “If anything happens to her…” Vivian started to say.

  “I’ll be careful, Vivian. I promise. Serving him won’t be a problem. I just have to hand him the paper. Getting his fingerprints will be the tricky part.”

  “Maybe off a glass or something. What are you thinking, Marc?” Tony asked.

  “I can’t stall very long. I want him on the stand Monday morning. We won’t have positive I.D. on the prints before that. I’ll have to figure out a way to recall him. If he is this Russian Mafia guy and I hammer him about corrupting Prentiss, that should be enough to get my reasonable doubt. We’ll see.”

  “And expose him and have him sent to prison for life,” Vivian added.

  SEVENTY-NINE

  The last witness to be called to the stand by Steve Gondeck was not a witness at all. At least the woman physically seated in the chair was not. Her name was Vanessa Gridley and she was an attractive, thirty-eight-year-old married mother of three who worked in the Hennepin County Government Center law library on the twenty-fourth floor of the building.

  Vanessa had testified for the prosecution many times because, aside from making a good aesthetic impression, Vanessa had an excellent voice. Vanessa projected well and a jury would always find her not only easy to listen to but smooth, pleasant and even a little charming. The truth is, Vanessa could read out loud for hours and hold the attention of any audience.

  Strictly speaking, Catherine’s diary was clearly hearsay. Vanessa was going to tell the jury something someone else, in this case, Catherine Prentiss, supposedly said. Hearsay evidence is supposed to be excluded. Any witness should only be allowed to testify as to what that witness personally did or observed. Over the centuries, going back to English common law, there have been so many exceptions carved out to the exclusion of hearsay testimony that it is fairly easy to find a way around it.

  Marc had strenuously argued that the diary be excluded in its entirety. He knew ahead of time that this was a fool’s errand he could not win. The hearsay rule exception that Gondeck used to get it into evidence was that the declarant, in this case, Catherine, was unavailable to testify which was obviously true. Gondeck’s argument was that she was unavailable because the defendant killed her. Marc objected to it, but Rios was not going to prevent the victim’s own statements from being admitted because of her unavailability due to the fact she had been murdered and likely by the defendant.

  Marc’s next best argument was to try to prevent the book from being read in open court. What he wanted was the book to be simply admitted into evidence and given to the jury. Hopefully, they would not take the time and effort to read through it. Marc was able to win a partial victory on this issue. Judge Rios decided to limit the passages to be read to those only for the current year and had to be clearly germane to the issue of domestic abuse. Catherine had not written every day in her diary and there was not abuse for her to write about each day. In fact, like most diaries, most of the entries were normal, routine, mundane day-to-day activities.

  Reasonably, the judge decided if the state could not make its case with that restriction, then the abuse case was not persuasive. In all, the lawyers, along with the judge, selected forty-four passages for Vanessa to read.

  Gondeck had selected Vanessa as his last witness with good reason. He had gone over his witness list and calibrated the time for each one and determined that it was likely he would conclude his case this exact Friday. The jury would be sent home for the weekend with Catherine’s story, through her own words, fresh in their memory; the story of a woman so beaten down by her husband that the years of therapy had not even begun to alleviate the abuse.

  Vanessa had practiced her performance on two occasions and had timed it out for just less than three hours. She did not read directly from the diary itself. Instead, she had been given copies of what she was to read. The book itself had been submitted into evidence and the page of each entry she read aloud had been marked for the jury. Marc had been given the same thing Vanessa would read and he had gone over every word to make sure it was accurate.

  When Vanessa began it quickly became clear the abuse was not all physical. Many of the diary entries detailed a man who was, in the common vernacular, a control freak. The entries that had been selected were quite long and detailed. Catherine wrote about Gordon’s obsessive-compulsiveness and his constant demands that everything be done his way. She wrote about his obvious anger at the infamous serial killer trial he had presided over and how it concluded. Gordon had expected that case to be a stepping stone to greater things. On and on it went for three hours. Entry after entry painting a picture of a man who was determined to keep this woman under his thumb and treat her as an object to own, display and use and abuse to bolster his own ego as a man.

  Finally, around 11:30, Vanessa came to the two worst incidents. As she had done with each new entry, Vanessa read the date and the diary’s page number. She read to the jury the story of the night Gordon came into her bedroom and beat her with a folded towel. Catherine wrote very specifically and in great detail about the entire incident. How it started and how calmly, deliberately, almost casually he went into her bathroom, came back with the towel and methodically beat her so as not to leave any visible marks or bruising. She went into the hurt and humiliation she felt and how terrified and broken she was after it and the desperation and helplessness of her situation and fate. She finished the diary entry with an almost calm clarity that she was convinced he would carry out his threat and someday kill her.

  The last entry to be read was the one that occurred the day before she died. Even though she had read it over several times, Vanessa still had a little trouble reading it to the jury. Catherine had detailed all of it and the jury was listening to every sordid detail of Catherine’s discovery of the S&M porn photos and DVD in which Gordon Prentiss himself had played a starring role. The terror she felt when Gordon caught her looking at these things and then threw her on the couch in his office and held the pillow over her head and the resigned acceptance Catherine felt as the life drained out of her. When Vanessa finished, Gondeck walked over to the table on which the trial’s evidence had been placed and picked up a small stack of the S&M porn photos. Without comment, he handed them to the jury foreman who looked them over with obvious distaste and passed them along.

  While this was taking place, Gondeck went to the television that had been set up and played the DVD Catherine had described in her diary. Marc renewed his objection to the photos and the DVD as being highly prejudicial and having no usefulness on the question of guilt or innocence. This argument had been made before in the judge’s chambers and on the record. Rios had decided that they went to the issue of the credibility of Catherine’s diary and supported the second count of the indictment. Rios again overruled Marc’s objection and the jury watched with a combination of disgust, shock and maybe even a little fascination.

  When the DVD finished playing, Gondeck announced the prosecution’s case was complete. Marc rose and made the automatic request for dismissal which Rios promptly denied. She was going to leave it up to the jury.

  The afternoon session began after lunch and was limited to Marc making his opening statement. He took his time and slowly paced back and forth in front of the jury briefly explaining what the defense would present, mostly character witnesses to refute the abuse allegations. He still had not decided if he was going to put Prentiss on the stand so he did not mention that one way or another. He was almost certain he had no choice but to let Prentiss testify. For his opening statement, however, if he told the jury Prentiss would take the stand and then not deliver it would
almost certainly lose the case. He stayed away from any mention of Leo Balkus. Again, if he told the jury he was going to show them something such as a possible alternative to his client’s guilt then, he had better deliver it. At this point he wasn’t sure he would be able to get Leo on the stand. Far better to under promise and over deliver than the other way around.

  Mostly he took this opportunity to remind them to keep an open mind, remember the presumption of innocence and wait until all of the facts were in before making a decision. It was weak and he knew it, but at least it gave him a chance to give them something else to think about over the weekend. They had just been given both an earful and eyeful of Gordon Prentiss as a wife-beating, control freak, sex pervert. Marc had to come up with something to dull those images.

  EIGHTY

  Maddy Rivers was sitting in her car, the engine running to keep the air conditioner going, indulging herself with the latest Debbie Macomber romance novel. It was a hot July Saturday afternoon and the temperature had already topped ninety. She was parked on the street three houses down from the million dollar home Ava Hammond was showing to a young couple that looked to be in their mid-twenties. This was the third high-priced mini-palace Ava had shown them and at each one Maddy couldn’t help wondering about a couple of things. How could a couple as young as these two afford such a place and why would they want to?

  Maddy looked up from her book and saw the three of them come out the front door and stroll down the long walkway toward their cars parked in the street. She watched as they chatted for a minute, all three of them smiling and looking quite pleased. The couple shook Ava’s hand entered their late model BMW and drove off while Ava watched and waved.

  Relieved that the housing tour appeared to be completed, Maddy waited for Ava to finish her cigarette then followed her as she drove down the street. Within a couple of minutes, Maddy could tell Ava was going back to her office. In order to avoid being detected, Maddy broke off following her, turned down a different street, hit the gas and was waiting for Ava by the time she got back to her office.

  Ava had a fairly large corner office on the first floor of a small building in Southwest Minneapolis. The building itself was a two story with space for ten realtors. Maddy could see Ava’s desk through the window facing the parking lot and she waited until Ava sat down at her desk. Being a weekend afternoon, the building was mostly empty since real estate agents did most of their meetings with prospective buyers and sellers outside of the office on weekends.

  She watched through the ground floor window as Ava came into view and placed her leather folder on the desk and sat down in her leather executive chair. Maddy waited another two minutes to be sure Ava was staying at her desk for a while. Satisfied, she left her car and entered the building.

  “Hello, Ava. I hope I didn’t startle you.”

  “No, I heard the door,” Ava replied as she looked at the intruder standing in her doorway. “I remember you. You’re that investigator working for Gordon’s lawyer.”

  “That’s right, Maddy Rivers,” she said as she stepped up to the desk and extended her hand to Ava. Ava hesitated for a moment, uncertain what to do, then reached across the desk and shook Maddy’s hand.

  “I would really appreciate it if you would give me a few minutes.”

  “Why? I told you before. I have nothing to say and I don’t want to talk to you.”

  Maddy, still standing, looked her directly in the eyes and Ava blinked and tried to both look away and return Maddy’s gaze. Finally, very quietly, Maddy said, “I have a feeling we both know that’s not entirely true. Marc, my boss, Gordon’s lawyer, sensed it too the other day when you were on the stand. You were Catherine’s best friend. Women talk to each other about their relationships. You know more about their marriage and relationship than anyone. You know the truth about what happened and we need to know it. Good, bad or indifferent. We need to know the truth about what happened. You know exactly what that is and it’s time for you to tell it.”

  “I, ah, um, no. I don’t,” Ava stammered. “Except Gordon Prentiss is the raging asshole he has been portrayed to be. That’s all I know and you have to leave or I’ll call the police,” she said regaining some control. “Please!”

  Maddy continued to stare at her for thirty to forty seconds then said, “Sooner or later, your conscience is going to get to you and you’ll have to do something. You’re a strong woman, Ava. I can see that, but you’re not so strong that you can keep this bottled up inside for much longer. Here’s my card,” Maddy continued as she placed her business card on Ava’s desk. “Call me when you’re ready. You won’t have a moment’s peace until you do.”

  Later that night, Maddy walked into Leo’s restaurant, The Blue Lady, and told the hostess she was meeting someone in the bar. She was counting on the fact that Saturday night was date night and in a nice place like this with the jazz band and fine dining, there would not be many single men in the place. The last thing she wanted was to have to stiff arm several idiots with inflated egos who believed they were doing her a favor by hitting on her.

  She was in her Loni disguise of a blonde wig and elegant, stylish black-framed glasses. She was also prepared for any possible difficulty by wearing navy blue slacks, a light sleeveless white blouse and sensible wedge support shoes.

  As she passed through the bar she gave an imperceptible nod of recognition to two separate men, each of whom was seated by himself. One was at a small table, the other on a stool at the bar. Both of the men were there to help her. The man on the barstool was to create a little drama to attract Leo’s attention when needed and the other to serve as her backup if things went south. The men were Dakota County deputies and professional acquaintances of Tony’s. Each of them had serious military training and were quite reliable in any difficult situation. When she passed the man at the table, he blinked several times, a prearranged signal to let Maddy know Leo was in his office.

  Maddy walked the length of the bar staring straight at what she knew was the door to Leo’s office. Maddy took the stool at the bar closest to Leo’s office, ordered a vodka tonic and waited. She had not had a chance to touch her drink when the office door opened.

  Leo came out, stepped up to the bar next to Maddy, set an empty glass on the bar, smiled and looked at the beautiful blonde who stroked his ego by smiling back at him. At that moment, the deputy who had been seated at the bar walked up to her, leaned over and appeared to whisper in her ear.

  “Look,” Maddy said to the man. “I already told you. I’m waiting for someone and I’m not interested. Now, get lost!”

  “Hey, honey,” the man said, acting as if he might be a little drunk. “I’m offering you a chance to get really lucky.”

  Leo stepped up to the man who was at least twenty years younger and said, “The lady said she’s not interested now, leave her alone or I throw you out.”

  “Who the hell are you, old man?” the deputy said.

  Leo grabbed him with both hands by the lapels of his coat and began to propel him along the bar. As soon as he did this, Maddy, using a bar napkin, snatched the glass Leo was holding and slipped it into a Ziploc plastic bag she had in her purse. The bartender, who had been watching his boss, failed to notice what she had just done.

  A minute later Leo, having physically removed the younger man, was back with a very satisfied look on his face. “You all right?” he asked Madeline.

  “Are you all right?” she asked Leo. “I’m sorry about that. Can I buy you a drink for helping a damsel in distress?” she asked.

  “It’s my place,” Leo said as modestly as he could. “Let me buy you one. I’m Leo,” he said as he put out his hand. “Leo Balkus. I own the place.”

  Maddy shook his hand then reached in her purse and pulled out the subpoena. “You’re Leo Balkus?” Without waiting for a reply she said, “I have something for you,” and handed him the folded document.

  With a curious look on his face, Leo unfolded the paper and began to read it. At th
at moment, Ike Pitts and Johnny Czernak came out of the office and walked up to their boss.

  Madeline stood up to leave as Leo, realizing what she had given him, angrily said to Johnny, “Grab that bitch!” before she could turn and try to flee.

  Johnny reached for her right shoulder with his left hand but instead Maddy grabbed his wrist with her right hand and viciously twisted it tearing his elbow ligaments. At the exact same moment, she grabbed his hair with her left hand and still holding his twisted left arm, slammed his face on the bar and tossed him backward onto the floor.

  Seeing what happened to Johnny, Leo stepped back and pushed Ike toward her. Ike tried to reach inside his coat for his gun but wasn’t quick enough. Maddy stepped into him and grabbed the arm he was trying to use to get his gun, his right one, with her left hand. As she did this, she slapped him as hard as she could with her cuffed right hand against his left ear. The force of the concussion blew out his eardrum and the pain caused Ike to scream. Still holding his right arm, she pivoted a half turn on her left heel and drove her right foot down onto the side of his left knee immediately buckling it. She finished him off by driving his face into the bar and letting him drop unconscious to the floor. The entire fight, if it could be called a fight, had lasted barely five seconds.

  Keeping her eyes on Leo, Maddy knelt down and removed Ike’s gun. She then stepped over to Johnny who was holding his face and moaning over and over, “Not my goddamn nose again,” and removed his gun as the blood poured from his shattered nose.

  By now most of the bar patrons had scattered and the ones that remained were too awestruck to move.

  Maddy set Johnny’s gun on the bar and removed the magazine from Ike’s automatic. While Leo looked on in shocked silence at the carnage she had wrought, she field stripped Ike’s gun and tossed the separate pieces around the room. In less than ten seconds she did the same thing to Johnny’s gun.