“No, it is,” Koch said. Looking at Marc she asked, “Mr. Kadella, I assume they asked about waiving a speedy trial?”
“Yes, your Honor. No again,” Marc answered.
Koch looked at the two prosecutors and said, “There you are. You may have to put in some late nights. Again, something Craig Slocum should’ve considered. What’s next?”
“My motions for discovery, your Honor,” Marc said.
“I’ve read through your pleadings,” Koch answered him. She looked at Harris and said, “What’s the problem? Why isn’t he getting what he needs?”
“I haven’t had a chance to adequately review the pleadings,” Harris protested.
“Too bad,” Koch replied. She turned to Marc and said, “Why do you want the police surveillance records?”
“The police had my client under round the clock surveillance during the time of at least some of these murders,” Marc answered her. “They create an alibi and are clearly exculpatory.”
“Is that true?” Koch asked Harris.
“I’m not sure, your Honor, I…”
“He gets the records,” Koch ruled. “What else?”
“Change of venue,” Marc said.
“Do you have any evidence to submit other than what’s in your pleadings?” Koch asked.
“No, your Honor. It just seems self-evident that given the publicity, he can’t get a fair trial in Hennepin County.”
Koch thought for a moment then said, “I’m going to deny your request. I think we can impanel an unbiased jury. But if we can’t after a reasonable attempt, we’ll revisit the issue.”
“Sequester the jury,” Marc said.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Koch said. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
“We would like a gag order issued, your Honor,” Harris said. “Mr. Kadella is very cozy with several members of the media. He even acted as a lawyer for one at one time, a Ms. Gabriella Shriqui at the Channel 8 facility.”
“I remember that,” Koch said looking at Marc. “Tell you what, I hate gag orders. They never work anyway. But I’ll keep an open mind about it. If things get out of hand I may impose it later.
“Okay,” the judge continued. “Mr. Harris, I’m going to issue an order for you to turn over his discovery requests within ten days. I don’t like prosecutors who try to keep things from defense lawyers. Am I clear?”
“Yes, your Honor,” Harris replied.
“Now, what about scheduling. I am open in early December. How long to try it?”
“That’s entirely too soon,” Harris protested.
“It’s not up to you,” Koch said. “The clock is ticking. Unless the defendant changes his mind,” she continued looking at Marc, “we’ll start on Monday, November thirtieth. That will give us almost four weeks to try to finish before Christmas. Clear your calendars.
“I want complete witness lists exchanged and all discovery completed by Friday, November twentieth. That will give us time to hear any last minute motions the week of Thanksgiving. You wanted a speedy trial, Mr. Kadella, you’re about to get one.”
By the time the local noon TV news reports aired, the word about the trial scheduling had already been leaked. Marc knew it did not come from him. He was also certain it had not been leaked by the judge. Slocum’s office, as usual, was a sieve.
FORTY-FIVE
“Hey,” Carolyn said as Marc came through the office door when he returned after the conference in Judge Koch’s chambers. “Take this, you’ll want to see it right away,” she continued holding a message slip for him.
Marc shifted his briefcase to his left hand and took the pink piece of paper from her. He read the brief note and asked, “He called about an hour ago? This is a relief. I’ve been trying to get a hold of him for two weeks,” he continued without waiting for Carolyn to confirm the time of the call.
“He said he was in Europe on vacation and got back last night,” Carolyn told him.
Marc looked at the wall clock behind Carolyn’s desk. Noting the time and driving distance, he made a quick mental calculation. “He should be here around three this afternoon,” he said out loud to himself.
“He said you could call him on his cell. That’s the number,” Carolyn said referring to a phone number on the message.
“I will. Thanks, Carolyn,” Marc added hurrying to his office.
“Hello, Jason and thanks for calling,” Marc said when the man answered his call.
“Sorry I missed you, Marc. I was in Europe. But I’m on my way. Give me a quick update.”
The man’s name was Jason Biggs and he was a criminalist Marc had used before with very good results. A criminalist is basically an independent CSI type investigator. Briggs was in his early fifties though he looked older because of his bald head and diminutive frame. He earned a bachelor’s degree in forensic science from Northwestern and his masters from Boston University. Briggs then spent ten years with the Chicago police department and six more in the Chicago office of the FBI. He watched many people of lesser ability make a lot more money as independent agents and over ten years ago decided to go that route himself. Because of his reputation from the CPD and FBI, he immediately tripled his income and worked less doing it.
“Have you heard about my case?”
“I went online and looked it up this morning before I called. You’ve got yourself a nasty one.”
“Yeah. Here’s the deal. There’s a lot of physical evidence connected to the bodies. You’ll need to go over those. Plus autopsy reports although the ones I’ve seen make the cause of death seem pretty obvious with the exception of one who appears to have died from a heart attack probably brought on when he was hit with a Taser. I haven’t received any toxicology test results yet on any of them.”
“What about crime scenes?”
“I’ve been through all of them. The Minneapolis cops are pretty good and thorough. You’ll want to take a look but I’m not sure what you’ll find.”
“Witnesses?” Briggs asked.
“A few civilians but not many. No eyewitnesses to the crimes. Mostly people who found the bodies. I’ll talk to them myself. A lot of cops, M.E. personnel and DNA techs.”
“What was tested for DNA?”
“A few hair samples and the inside of a pair of gloves. We’ll need to get our own test done.”
“How many hairs?”
“Four total.”
“Anything else we’ll need to test for DNA?”
“Not so far. They haven’t found my guy’s DNA on anything else so…”
“We don’t want to test anything else and find it for them,” Briggs said completing Marc’s thought.
“Exactly. There’s a lot of metal to test. Barbed wire.”
“No problem. I can do that myself. I have the equipment and know how to do that. I can’t do DNA myself but I know several excellent labs to do it for us,” Briggs replied.
“If I decide to,” Marc said.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Briggs asked.
“My guy was convicted once before on flawed DNA testing. I’m not sure I want to verify the test results this time for them. I might be able to use the last faked results against them this time. I just have to figure out how to get it into testimony.”
“I see,” Briggs said, “interesting. Well, I’ll be there between two and three. I’m an hour or so west of Madison now.”
“Great Jason and thanks again. It’s a relief to know you’re coming. Do you want me to get a room for you?”
“Oh, yes, please. I didn’t think about that,” Briggs replied.
“I’ll take care of it. Same place as last time. Do you remember how to get to my office?”
“Yes, I’ll come right there when I get to Minneapolis.”
“See you soon,” Marc said ending the call.
Steve Gondeck was in a surly mood. For the first time in his career he was removed from a case and his ego had taken a hit. Intellectually he knew it was simply Slocum b
eing a petulant ass but it still annoyed him. Gondeck had even typed up an email to Slocum resigning from his job. He let it sit in his outgoing mail and went for a walk to think it over.
The walk calmed him down and made him realize he had not been removed from the Traynor case because of incompetence. In fact, it was just the opposite. Slocum knew that with Gondeck in charge of the prosecution, Slocum would be frozen out of any meaningful involvement. Slocum knew that giving the case to his personal office pet would put Slocum in total control.
By the time he got back to the government center building, Gondeck had made a couple of decisions. He took the street-level escalator up to the building’s main floor and found a bank of pay phones. He looked up the number he wanted on his personal phone and not wanting the call to be traced to his phone, called from the pay phone.
The woman answered and he identified himself. They agreed to meet for lunch away from downtown right away. Gondeck then took an elevator back to his office. He deleted his resignation email and quickly typed and printed a note, found a blank envelope and left to meet his lunch date.
Gondeck entered the Applebee’s in a suburb on the western fringe of the Metro area. Gabriella Shirqui was sitting near the hostess stand waiting for him. She rose to greet him and the hostess showed them to a table.
“I’m really nervous about this, Gabriella. In all my years with the county attorney’s office, I have never done this; meet with a reporter clandestinely like this,” Gondeck said.
“And you’re worried about your job,” Gabriella stated.
“Yeah, I’d get fired in a heartbeat,” Gondeck agreed.
“Tell you what,” Gabriella smiled, reached across the table to pat his hand reassuringly and said, “if I use what you have, I’ll refer to where I got it as ‘sources close to the investigation’ and I’ll be sure to use the plural sources. I’ll go to jail to protect you, okay?”
“Fair enough,” Gondeck said more relaxed with Gabriella’s assurance.
They ordered lunch and while they did, Gondeck gave her a quick rundown on the case against Howie Traynor. Almost everything he told her, at first, was already known to her. After their dishes were cleared he got to the good part. He gave her the inside scoop about what happened that morning when he was removed and why Slocum did it.
“So Slocum’s got a personal grudge against Marc Kadella,” she said when Gondeck paused. “Interesting and unprofessional but hardly the stuff of headlines. I mean, I’ll use it but…”
“That’s not the worst of it,” Gondeck interrupted her. “There’s more. Slocum is deliberately withholding evidence, exculpatory evidence from the defense.”
“Isn’t that unethical? I thought he had a legal duty to…”
“Yes, he does,” Gondeck agreed.
“What evidence is he withholding?”
“That, I can’t tell you. He’ll know where it came from. But,” he continued as he removed the envelope with the note in it from his inside coat pocket. “I want you to do me a favor, please.” He handed the envelope to her and said, “Call Marc Kadella and give him this. Then wait for him to read it. I have spelled it out for him and wrote in it that he can tell you as long as you protect me. He needs to get this.”
She took the sealed envelope from him and said, “What if I decide to open this and read it myself?”
Gondeck shrugged and said, “Once we leave here I can’t stop you but I’ve heard you’re honest and ethical. Besides, you’ll get an exclusive on it anyway.”
“I’ll call Marc and see him as quickly as possible.”
Marc’s phone buzzed and when he answered it Carolyn let him know Gabriella had arrived. When she left the restaurant she called Marc to let him know she had something for him and wanted to see him right away. The reporter in her resented being used as a go-between like this but also realized Gondeck and Kadella would both owe her a favor. Besides, something told her she was about to get a juicy piece of information about Slocum.
“Hi, Gabriella. Come in,” Marc said when he went into the common area.
Once they were both seated in his office, Gabriella handed Marc the envelope and said, “The letter inside will tell you why I’m here. At least that’s what I was told.”
Marc slit open the envelope with a letter opener he had in his desk. He leaned back in his chair and read the note from Gondeck.
“Sonofabitch,” he softly said when he finished. He shook his head and continued by saying. “That goddamn Slocum. What a petty, petulant ass he is.”
“What? Tell me,” Gabriella eagerly said.
Marc leaned forward, pulled his chair up against the desk and handed the note to Gabriella. She took a minute to read it over and when she finished softly said, “Sonofabitch.” She looked at Marc and added, “Does this mean what I think it means? That Traynor may be innocent and Craig Slocum is suppressing evidence that you could use to prove it?”
“We’ll find out,” Marc said. “How are you going to report it?”
“I’ll, ah, just say ‘sources close to the investigation’ as my source. I have to run,” she added as she stood up still holding the note.
“Uh, uh,” Marc said. “Give me the note. That’s going in the shredder.”
“Oh, sure,” she said slyly smiling as she handed it back to him.
“Don’t use the part about Slocum not disclosing this evidence because of personal antipathy toward me. He would know where that came from. And keep my name out of it, too,” Marc said.
“Good afternoon,” Melinda began. “I’m Melinda Pace and this is the Court Reporter.
“I have a bombshell to bring you today and we are live because it just came in. With me in the studio is Channel 8 reporter Gabriella Shriqui with our exclusive news.”
The camera moved away to show both women seated at Melinda’s anchor desk. Melinda turned to Gabriella and said, “What do you have for us?”
Gabriella turned to face the camera and said, “Sources close to the investigation of the Crown of Thornes case have revealed information to me about the prosecution’s office that could be both unethical and illegal.
“Last week the murdered body of Eugene Parlow was found in an alley in South Minneapolis. He had been shot three times. Parlow is one of the men, along with Howard Traynor, who was investigated for the Crown of Thornes killings. The police were closely watching him because he was one of the men released from prison after it was revealed the DNA test used to convict him was doctored by a lab technician. In fact, my sources tell me that Parlow and Traynor knew each other.
“At the scene where Eugene Parlow’s body was found, the police discovered a bag nearby containing a coiled length of barbed wire, wire cutters, a Taser stun gun device and a hammer and nails. These are the exact same items that were used in all of the Crown of Thornes murders.
“It was also revealed that Craig Slocum, the Hennepin County Attorney personally made the decision that because these items were believed to be unconnected to Parlow’s murder, there would be no lab testing done on any of the items found in the bag. Mr. Slocum also decided that because this was not to be used in the prosecution of Howard Traynor, the county attorney’s office had no obligation to reveal any of this to Traynor’s lawyer.
“In addition, the judge who presided over Parlow’s trial in which the faulty DNA test was used against Parlow was Judge Ross Peterson. The prosecutor was Rhea Watson, the judge who handled his appeal was the man murdered outside Bemidji, Robert Smith and Cara Meyers was his lawyer. All of these people are victims, and tied to the Crown of Thornes.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean Howard Traynor is innocent,” Melinda pointed out. “As you said, Traynor and Parlow knew each other.”
“Vaguely,” Gabriella said. “There’s no evidence to believe they worked together.”
“There’s no evidence to believe they didn’t either,” Melinda said.
“I suppose that’s technically true,” Gabriella agreed smiling yet silently seeth
ing at Melinda playing Devil’s Advocate for Craig Slocum. “But at the very least, the prosecution has to legally tell the defense about this. And I can’t help wonder if this had something to do with Slocum’s decision to change lawyers for the prosecution.”
Within minutes of Gabriella’s report the switchboard at the county attorney’s office lit up like a Christmas tree. The receptionists taking the calls spent the next hour issuing no comment statements to the reporters, locally, statewide and nationally, who wanted answers from Slocum.
The next day Slocum put out a press release denying any intent to withhold evidence. He claimed the bag was not found with Parlow’s body and there was no evidence to directly tie the bag to Parlow. It also stated he would release the information to Traynor’s lawyer as soon as possible.
FORTY-SIX
The Twin Cities Metro area received four inches of snow during the night. This was the first measurable snow storm of the season and the heavy, wet, sloppy stuff made a mess of the streets. Despite the fact that snow was hardly a rarity in Minnesota, many of the natives drove as if they had never seen it before. Traffic was barely moving at a crawl, especially in Minneapolis where plowing was not always deemed a necessity.
Marc spent the Thanksgiving weekend at Margaret Tennant’s relaxing and acting like a normal person. Fortunately, he was in a relationship with a woman who understood the stress he was under and realized trial work is not a nine to five job.
Marc pulled into the early morning line entering the underground parking at the government center. Waiting in line as traffic moved by on Third Avenue spraying his SUV with sloppy, dirty snow did nothing to calm his nerves. No matter how many trials he did, on the morning of the first day his nerves were always as tight as a bowstring. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and silently urged the line to move faster.
Marc found an empty parking space in the underground garage. The weather geeks were calling for two to three more inches during the day which would make the drive home a pain.
Certain Justice Page 28
