“I know,” Jefferson said holding up a hand. “Do what you have to do. Just don’t advertise it. I need to talk to the county attorney and let him know what we found.”
“Slocum?” Marcie asked.
“No,” Jefferson shook his head. “Steve Gondeck.”
FORTY-THREE
Jefferson waited with increasing impatience in the reception area to the county attorney offices. He looked up at the clock for at least the tenth time, annoyed with the realization he had been waiting almost an hour. Two minutes later, seconds before he was going to look at the clock again, Steve Gondeck appeared.
“I’m really sorry, Owen,” he apologized as the two men shook hands. “Right after you called I got a call from a judge I had to go see. I didn’t think it would take this long. Come on back,” he explained as he held the door for the detective.
On their way back to the Gondeck’s office he whispered to Jefferson, “Slocum wants to sit in.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s never good,” Gondeck answered.
Craig Slocum was the elected Hennepin County Attorney. At one time he was a successful civil litigator in private practice who decided to go into politics. A closet Republican, he had joined the Democrat party in order to win the election in Hennepin County. His ambition to obtain the Governor’s mansion had suffered a severe blow a couple years back. A high profile case involving the murder of the current governor’s daughter had landed on his desk. To further his political ambitions, Slocum tried the case himself only to have it blow up in his face. Ever since then the defense lawyer who had done this to him was, to Slocum, public enemy number one. The defense lawyer’s name was Marc Kadella.
The murder of Eugene Parlow the day before had barely made the news. The Star Tribune ran a small story on page seven of the Metro section making it sound like a drug deal, motorcycle gang killing. So far, no one in the media had made the connection between Parlow and Howie Traynor. Jefferson called Gondeck with the news and they decided to keep a lid on it as long as possible.
“We’re in my office,” Jefferson heard Gondeck say into his desk phone. “Okay, we’ll wait.”
Less than a minute later, Slocum joined the two men waiting for him in Gondeck’s office.
“Should I have Jennifer join us?” Gondeck asked Slocum referring to another prosecutor, Jennifer Moore. “She’s going to second chair this case.”
“No,” Slocum emphatically said. “We can fill her in later. Now, Detective, Steve tells me you say you have some important evidence to discuss with us.”
“Yes, sir,” Jefferson began. For the next twenty minutes, while the two lawyers asked questions, Jefferson filled them in on the murder of Eugene Parlow. He concluded with a description of what was found in the canvas bag in the alley near the body.
When Jefferson finished Gondeck turned his attention to Slocum and started to say, “We have to tell…”
Slocum held up a hand to cut him off and stop him.
“Do you have anything else, Detective?” Slocum politely asked.
“No, sir.”
“Let me ask you,” Slocum continued. “Do you have any evidence conclusively tying the bag and its contents to this Parlow person? Any fingerprints, DNA, hair samples? Anything at all?”
“Um, no. I don’t think so. At least not yet,” Jefferson answered a bit puzzled.
Slocum stood up and said, “Thank you, Detective. I need to discuss this with Steve alone. I’m sure you understand?”
“Sure, no problem,” Jefferson replied.
Slocum opened the office door for him, shook his hand and said, “Keep this quiet for now. Thanks again and be sure to let us know if anything else comes up.”
Slocum returned to the chair he was using, looked at Gondeck and said, “You were about to say?”
“We need to inform Traynor’s lawyer about this,” Gondeck said.
“No, we don’t.”
“Yes, Craig, we do,” Gondeck said with unmistakable emphasis. “It’s exculpatory evidence and we have an ethical obligation to tell him.”
“I disagree. How do we know the bag belonged to this Parlow person? It was found on the other side of the ally. There is nothing to tie it or its contents to Parlow. No, it’s my decision and we will not inform Kadella about it and that’s final.”
“Craig, you need to get past this hard-on you have for Marc Kadella and act like a professional.”
“Stop! You don’t need to lecture me about my professional obligation,” Slocum interrupted him, the tension between them rising rapidly. More calmly Slocum said, “Look, Steve, if the police come up with something more positive to tie the bag to Parlow, we’ll revisit the subject. Until then, my decision stands.”
Gondeck stared at his boss for several seconds then said, “Okay. It’s your call but you’re about to get an email from me spelling out my objections to the decision. If anybody gets jammed up over this, it’s not going to be me.”
“That’s not necessary,” an obviously annoyed Slocum replied.
“Yes, it is. I’m going to cover my ass on this one,” Gondeck said.
“Very well, that’s your prerogative,” Slocum replied more calmly. “I believe I’m on solid legal ground. We do not have to disclose any of this to Kadella. Especially since the method of Parlow’s murder is so different than the others.”
“One other thing,” Gondeck said. “I almost forgot. Kadella is requesting copies of the police surveillance records of Traynor, Aaron Forsberg and Parlow. He believes these may also be exculpatory.”
“No, they are confidential police work product. Fight him in court over them. Make him prove they are or may be exculpatory.”
“We’re going to lose that, Craig,” Gondeck patiently explained. “Those records are exculpatory.”
“He can argue it in court on a motion or at trial. I will not help this guy any more than is absolutely necessary.”
Early the next day, Marc Kadella was in his office on the phone with Tony Carvelli.
“What makes you think I did surveillance of Howie Traynor?” Tony coyly asked.
“Tony, don’t do this. Don’t try to blow smoke up my ass like this. I’m having enough trouble with Slocum’s office getting discovery. Ask Vivian if it’s okay to give me the records. I know you, I know you’re meticulous and you kept a running log of it. If Vivian objects it’s okay. I’ll get a subpoena or a court order if I have to.”
Carvelli thought it over then said, “I’ll get back to you.”
“Today?” Marc asked.
“As soon as I can. Let me call her.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Marc went back to the motion pleadings he was working on. A scheduling conference was coming up next week. The prosecution was not providing any discovery of the evidence such as autopsy reports, DNA results, nothing. In the meantime he was seeing these things reported on TV and in the newspapers. Knowing Steve Gondeck and having tried several cases with him, Marc believed it wasn’t him. It was Slocum who was doing this.
Marc’s office intercom buzzed and when he answered it, Carolyn said, “Gabriella Shriqui is on the phone. Do you want to talk to her?”
“What does she want?”
“Didn’t say. Should I put her through?”
“Sure,” Marc said setting aside the papers he was working on. “I’ll give her a few minutes.”
“Hello, Marc,” Gabriella said.
“What’s up? And this phone call is off the record. I won’t talk about Howard Traynor,” Marc said.
“That’s not why I’m calling…”
“I still don’t have time to help you with your ticking biological clock problem either.”
“What?” Gabriella asked, confused by Marc’s statement. “Oh, I remember. I’m going to kill Maddy for telling you that.”
While Marc laughed Gabriella continued by saying, “I called to find out if the Eugene Parlow in this morning’s paper is the same guy as the one who was r
eleased from prison because of a doctored DNA test. Do you know anything about it?”
“What are you talking out?”
“In this morning’s Strib, in the Metro section on page six. A Eugene Parlow was found murdered in an alley in south Minneapolis yesterday.”
A stunned Marc Kadella didn’t respond with the news. Finally, Gabriella said, “Marc are you there?”
“Um, yeah. Ah, I was just thinking,” he said.
“So I take it you don’t know anything either. I can’t get anything out of the cops or Slocum’s office. No one seems to know anything about it.”
“Bullshit,” Marc said. “It’s him. How many Eugene Parlow’s are there in this town? For some reason they’re keeping a lid on it. I have to go, Gabriella. I need to make a phone call.”
“Can I call you back?”
Marc paused then said, “I tell you what, you know Steve Gondeck?”
“Yes, I know him.”
“Call him in half an hour. If he won’t talk to you, call me after lunch.”
Two minutes later, Gondeck answered Marc’s call.
“Why haven’t I been told about the murder of Eugene Parlow?” Marc asked without even saying hello.
“Because we don’t believe it had anything to do with Traynor or your case,” Gondeck replied.
“At this point, Steve, that’s not for you to decide,” Marc said barely concealing his anger.
“Wait, Marc. Back it up. Yes, you have a right to know and I was going to call you today,” Gondeck lied. “Parlow was found in an alley between two dumpsters. He was shot three times; twice in the chest, once in the forehead. It’s a drug deal, gang killing, Marc.”
“I’ll want all police reports, autopsies, everything. Speaking of which, when am I going to get the rest of my discovery? I’ve seen news reports on TV about hair samples and DNA but…”
“I don’t know where that’s coming from,” Gondeck protested. “We’re working on getting these things to you. I have people I answer to, you know.”
This last statement was a clear message to Marc that Slocum was personally monitoring this case. Marc had suspected this all along and Gondeck just confirmed it. They were dragging their feet on Slocum’s orders to make Marc’s job difficult and to try to get him to waive a speedy trial to give the cops more time to find more evidence.
“Gabriella Shriqui, the reporter from Channel 8, is going to call you in a while. She wants to talk to you about Parlow. Either you talk to her or I will. I’ll see you in court next week.” With that, Marc ended the call.
Before Marc had a chance to go back to his motion paperwork, his personal cell phone went off. He looked at the ID then answered it.
“What did Vivian tell you?” he asked Tony Carvelli.
“She told me to make you buy me lunch and give you what you want. The lady likes you for some reason I can’t explain.”
“I’ll see you at noon,” Marc said.
FORTY-FOUR
The intercom on Steve Gondeck’s desk phone buzzed. He looked at the ID and thought about ignoring it. He was busy and not in the mood to play “placate the idiot” as he liked to call it. Giving in, against his better judgment, he picked up the phone.
“Yes, Craig, what do you need?” Gondeck said as pleasantly as possible.
The county attorney abruptly said, “Come into my office. I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I’m a little busy. I have a scheduling conference for the Traynor case this morning.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Bring your entire file,” Slocum said.
An alarm bell sounded in Gondeck’s head but he acquiesced to his boss’ demand anyway. He gathered up the Traynor file and headed out the door.
Ever since their meeting with Owen Jefferson concerning the murder of Eugene Parlow, Gondeck and Slocum had been at odds. In Gondeck’s opinion, the Parlow murder and the evidence found at the scene were obviously pertinent to the Traynor case. He strongly believed the prosecution had an ethical responsibility to inform Traynor’s lawyer and turn over the information about that crime to him.
Slocum had taken the opposite view. The canvas bag found near Parlow’s body could not be positively linked to Parlow and therefore, so he argued, it was not relevant to Traynor’s case.
The two men had gone around about this three or four times, once or twice the argument became a little heated. While walking the short distance to Slocum’s large, corner office a feeling of foreboding hung over Gondeck. He had an uneasy feeling he knew what was coming. In his opinion, a huge mistake was about to be made.
Gondeck rapped firmly on the office door, opened it, and went in. Seated in a chair was the mistake he believed Slocum was going to make.
“Come in, Steve,” Slocum said. “Have a seat.”
Instead of sitting down he stepped over to the man sitting in Slocum’s office chair. He handed the man the Traynor file and said, “Here you are, Tommy, good luck. You have a scheduling conference with Judge Koch in twenty minutes.”
Tommy Harris was Slocum’s number one ass-kisser. Slocum brought him into the county attorney’s office from the firm they were with when both were in private practice. Harris was passed over for partner by that firm for the third time and jumped at the chance when Slocum became county attorney. He was a fair trial lawyer but not in Gondeck’s class. As far as Slocum was concerned he had a far more significant virtue. Harris could be counted on to strictly adhere to Slocum’s bidding without question.
A slightly shocked Slocum said, “You’re not going to argue with me about it?”
Gondeck look at Slocum shrugged and said, “You’re the boss. It’s entirely your decision.”
“I appreciate that, Steve. I just think you’re a little too close to Traynor’s lawyer, Kadella. No hard feelings?”
“No, Craig, not at all,” Gondeck lied while thinking Slocum was letting his personal, petty feelings toward Marc Kadella cloud his judgment.
When Gondeck got back to his office, he stood behind his desk staring out the large window overlooking south Minneapolis. Barely two minutes later, he heard a knock on his door and an angry Jennifer Moore stormed in slamming the door behind her.
“It wasn’t my call,” Gondeck said holding his hands up as if to ward her off. “He took the case away from me.”
“Slocum?” she quietly asked somewhat mollified.
“Who else?”
“Who has it?”
“Guess,” Gondeck smiled.
“Not Tommy Harris. Tell me that didn’t happen,” she replied.
“Yes indeed.”
Jennifer paused then said, “Now I’m glad they took me off. Who’s second chair?”
“Not sure. Probably one of the new guys. They’ll want a gofer who will do anything he’s told.”
Jennifer shrugged her shoulders then said, “Okay, I guess. Sorry to barge in on you. I thought you did it.”
“I wouldn’t and don’t worry about it.”
Marc turned the corner away from the elevators to get to Judge Koch’s courtroom. Once again he ran into a small herd of media members and court junkies in front of courtroom 1424. One of the media people spotted him and before he could react he was surrounded by them.
“I have no comment about anything,” Marc quickly said as he retreated back from where he came. He reached the court chamber’s area security doors and pushed the buzzer on the intercom. A moment later a deputy opened the door and while the reporters continued to harangue Marc with questions, the deputy let him in.
Marc found two men standing in the back hallway at the door to Koch’s chambers. One of them he recognized, the other younger one, he did not know at all.
“Are you guys here for the Traynor conference?” he asked.
The lawyer he vaguely knew introduced himself as Tommy Harris. The younger man told Marc he was Paul Ramsey. The three of them shook hands.
“What happened to Steve Gondeck?” Marc asked.
/> “I’ve been assigned to handle this case,” Harris said avoiding Marc’s question.
Marc remembered what he had heard about Tommy Harris. Word was Harris was Slocum’s toady and office snitch. Remembering this made Marc realize that Slocum, whom Marc knew despised him, had taken the case away from Gondeck for personal reasons. The realization could not have made Marc happier. Steve Gondeck was a far better and more experienced lawyer.
“I was wondering if we could talk about a continuance of today’s hearing and your client waiving his right to a speedy trial,” Harris asked.
“Sorry, no to both,” Marc replied.
“It’s just that we were assigned this case this morning and…”
“Craig Slocum should have thought of that before he threw his little temper tantrum and removed Gondeck,” Marc replied.
“So, you won’t…”
“No, I won’t,” Marc said smiling.
“Come in and have a seat, gentlemen,” Koch said as the three lawyers filed into her chambers. “I want to do this in here to avoid the press. Where are Steve Gondeck and Jennifer Moore? I thought they were trying this case.”
Tommy Harris explained to her that the case had been reassigned as the lawyers took their seats.
“I can’t tell Craig Slocum who to assign to work his cases, but you tell him this had better be it. You two are the attorneys of record unless one of you dies. Is that clear?”
“Yes, your Honor,” both men answered her.
When the court reporter indicated she was ready, Judge Koch took a moment to read the case information into the record. She then had each lawyer in turn state their names and representation for the woman to take down.
“Before we begin, your Honor,” Harris said. “I’d like to request a continuance.”
“This is exactly why I don’t approve of Craig Slocum switching lawyers,” Koch sternly admonished him. “My schedule is not subject to his whim. But I’ll let Mr. Kadella decide,” she continued believing he had already turned down the request.
“No, your Honor. My client should not be burdened with the expense or delay,” Marc said.
Certain Justice Page 27
