“And.”
“They had Egan go over her findings regarding the Burnham investigation. It’s pretty clear cut, really. What I think you need to know is that they intend to make an example of him. Cates made it clear he wants felony charges filed against Terry immediately. And he specifically directed Egan not to present the findings of the investigation to you. She tried to explain to him that that’s not how we do things around here, but he insisted.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “This incident might warrant a misdemeanor charge but certainly not a felony. It’s not like we had an employee smuggling drugs into the prison and passing them on to inmates.”
Dutton sighed. “Egan told him that, but he didn’t want to hear it. Don’t forget that many of us know Terry Burnham. I think what you’ve got is an employee with a drinking problem who needs to go through treatment. But Cates appears to have a different agenda.”
“Where does the investigation stand now?” I asked.
“Basically, we’re through. Egan’s impression is that Cates intends to dispatch Rivers-Blakely to the DA’s office first thing this morning, and push for the issuance of a felony information charging Terry with one count of smuggling contraband into the prison.”
“Shit. Thanks for the heads-up, T.J., I owe you one. I’ll talk to you later.”
I’d figured that today’s meeting would probably be about Bradshaw’s escape from custody. Now I knew different. I also had a pretty good idea what I intended to do about it.
Chapter Forty-five
I was about to leave the office and pay a visit to the Salt Lake County District Attorney’s office when Patti called. “Sam, it’s Jack Early on line two.” Early was an evidence technician employed at the Utah State Crime Laboratory who specialized in drug testing. He’d been in the business a long time.
“Morning, Jack. I’ll bet you’re calling to tell me what that ‘exotic’ substance was that came out of Bradshaw’s cell the other night?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Why else would you be calling me?”
“Good point. It took us a little extra time and effort, and I gotta tell you, I’ve never seen this substance in Utah before.”
“The suspense is killing me. What is it?”
“It’s a drug called Tetrodotoxin, or TTX for short. Some people refer to it as Zombie Powder.”
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s actually a toxin found in the ovaries and liver of Puffer fish, more commonly known as the Blow fish. Blow fish are found in the South Pacific and Indian oceans. The fish is considered a delicacy in Japan. A small number of people each year actually die from eating Blow fish because they’re also ingesting TTX. I guess if the chef preparing the fish doesn’t know what he’s doing, the results can be fatal for the consumer.”
“I’ll mention that to my girlfriend the next time she asks me to go to a sushi bar. Where’s this stuff come from?”
Early snorted a laugh. “That’s the interesting part. I can tell you where it doesn’t come from, and that’s anyplace around here. Apparently, TTX is still used in some voodoo religious rituals and can be found in Haiti. It’s also believed to be available in the Algiers section of New Orleans.”
“Interesting. How does a person ingest the drug?”
“It absorbs through the skin or the gastrointestinal tract. It can be added to food or simply sprinkled on the skin. Symptoms begin to show in as little as a few minutes to as long as four hours.”
“Is there an antidote?”
“No known antidote. When people die from TTX poisoning, it’s because of respiratory failure.”
“So if somebody has an adverse reaction to TTX, how are they treated?”
“Good question. Oxygen would be used for sure. As far as other drugs are concerned, I’m not sure. I suspect you could treat somebody having an adverse reaction with drugs that support blood pressure. That only makes sense.”
“How does the drug react in the body? I mean it doesn’t sound like it would give users a raging high?”
“You’re right about that, Sam. TTX is basically a neurotoxin that affects a person’s neurological system. Its symptoms can include reductions in heart rate and blood pressure, paralysis, speech difficulty, irregular heartbeat, and slow, shallow respirations.”
“Christ, the symptoms sound like they mimic somebody suffering a heart attack.”
“Exactly.”
I said, “The Bradshaws must have known all of this. They smuggled the drug into the prison and passed it to Walter. At an agreed upon time, he took it, knowing that it would trigger a reaction that would earn him a trip to the hospital.”
“And might kill him,” said Early.
“Yeah, that too. No wonder our prison medical personnel were confused.”
“Are there any legitimate medical uses for the drug?”
“In my research, I read that it’s used in certain types of neurological research; in diluted form, I guess it’s also used as a painkiller for people suffering from rheumatism and arthritis.”
“That explains a lot of things, Jack. Have you notified the sheriff’s office?”
“Already did that. Everybody who needs to know does.”
I thanked him and disconnected.
***
By midmorning, I was in downtown Salt Lake City circling the Justice Center in search of a parking place. All of the Reserved for Police Vehicles spots were taken, and at this point, I was ready to feed a meter if I could find one. The drive in from the prison had given me time to plot strategy. I figured my best bet was to make my pitch on Burnham’s behalf prior to my noon meeting with Cates. If I spoke with him first, he might give me a direct order to keep my mouth shut and stay out of the case. I didn’t want to risk that. What’s that old saying? “Sometimes it’s easier to seek forgiveness than ask permission.” This felt like one of those times.
There was a couple of ways I could play this. I could pay a visit to the deputy DA in charge of reviewing cases brought in by the police. Assuming Cates had dispatched Rivers-Blakely here ahead of me, that’s probably where she went. But I knew if an investigation might result in criminal charges against an officer, the DA himself reviewed it before final decisions were made. So that’s where I went.
District Attorney Richard Hatch didn’t look pleased to see me. “Hello, Sam. You missed Rachel Rivers-Blakely by about an hour. Have a seat.” He remained seated behind his desk while I sat in a high-back leather chair directly in front of him. He studied me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking.
“I assume you’re here to see me about the Terry Burnham matter.” I nodded.
“Does Ben Cates know you’re here?” I shook my head.
“Thought so. I think you’re about to put me in an awkward situation but it certainly won’t be the first time. I suppose I don’t have to tell you that you’re not in a particularly good place yourself.” I listened but didn’t say anything.
“Here’s something for you to think about. You could get up right now and walk out that door, and as far as I’m concerned, this meeting never took place.” He waited and so did I.
He shrugged. “I didn’t think so. State your case.”
Hatch listened patiently as I walked him through the incident with Burnham. He’d been a deputy district attorney in Salt Lake County for years before running for the top job and getting it. He’d known Terry for years, and I figured that couldn’t hurt. It was also to my advantage that the case against Burnham hadn’t come to the attention of the media, so Hatch wouldn’t have that issue to contend with. When I finished, he took a deep breath intently studying the neatly manicured fingers of his right hand.
“That would appear to be an accurate factual summary of the case,” he said. “And it’s nice to know the facts are not in dispute. Your take on the matter coincides nicely with Sergeant Egan’s report, which I’ve read, and with what Rivers-Blakely had to say.”
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“That’s good,” I replied.
“Yes, it is, but of course, that’s not the problem. The problem is Ben Cates wants this guy taken out at sunrise and shot. You, on the other hand, are here seeking leniency for an employee. I may not be able to help you, but for what it’s worth, I admire your sense of loyalty to a member of your staff.”
“Why can’t you help me, Richard? You’re the decision-maker here.”
“I wish I could assure you that my decision, whatever that may be, is free of political considerations. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case.”
“Why not?”
He hesitated before answering. “I’m sure you’ve heard the expression that it’s never a wise idea to fall on your own sword. If I were to do what you’d like me to do, I risk alienating a powerful player in the Utah criminal justice system, and one that has the ear of both the governor and the legislature.”
“That would be Benjamin Cates.”
He nodded. “Now if I were to do what your boss would like to see done, I ingratiate myself with him and I can file away an IOU to be used later. I also get the added benefit of going public with the case and come away looking like a tough, but fair minded DA in the eyes of the general public. That’s the serendipity.”
I shook my head. “Why can’t we make decisions in this system predicated on doing the right thing instead of that which is politically expedient?” It seemed like a rhetorical question, even to me, and Hatch didn’t bother answering it.
Finally, he said, “You speak of doing the right thing. Politics aside, tell me what you believe the appropriate course of action should be in this case.”
“I don’t think Terry should walk away unscathed from this incident, and he’s not going to. Regardless of what you decide to do, Terry’s going to be disciplined by the department.”
“What action do you anticipate the department will take?”
“After the appropriate due process, at the very least, he’ll be reprimanded and suspended from duty without pay for a period of time. And he might well lose his job. I’d like to see your office file a misdemeanor charge, and offer him a deferred prosecution. Give him a year to keep his nose clean and see if he completes alcohol treatment. If he does, drop the case and keep it off his record. And if that’s not enough, fine him and require him to perform community service while he’s in treatment.”
“And you think this is an appropriate course of action because…?”
“Richard, you’ve been around a long time and so have I. Terry Burnham is hardly the first alcoholic cop to come down the pike and he won’t be the last. There’s certainly ample precedent for giving these troubled officers a second chance. We send them through an employee assistance program and try to rehabilitate them. We don’t just flush them down the toilet, particularly on a first offense. And let’s not forget Terry’s had a distinguished police career for almost thirty years without a blemish on his record.”
“Well stated, Sam, but I’m afraid I’m going to need a little time before making a decision. And I’m not making you any promises. Are we clear about that?”
“Sure. I understand.” I thanked him and got up to leave. When I got to the door, he stopped me.
“Sam, this may not turn out the way you would have liked, but I want you to know I respect the fact that you came here at some professional risk to yourself to support a member of your staff. And if Ben Cates finds out about our little chat, I want you to know that he didn’t hear about it from me.”
I nodded, thanked him again, and left.
Chapter Forty-six
I still had a few minutes before my noon meeting with Director Cates so I stopped by to see Kate. I found her doing what I needed to be doing, typing reports on the Ginsberg investigation.
She glanced up from her computer screen. “Ready to get back to work?”
“Yeah, but it’s going to have to be this afternoon.” I told her about the noon meeting with Cates, the call from T.J. Dutton of the sheriff’s office, and my subsequent visit with Richard Hatch.
“I’ve always had good rapport with Hatch,” she said. “He’s a straight shooter. What do you think he’ll do?”
“I wish I knew. I don’t think the odds are any better than fifty-fifty. I agree with you. I like Hatch, but I don’t think he’s inclined to bleed for me, much less Burnham.”
“I don’t like where you’re at on this one. If Cates finds out about your visit with Hatch, he’s going to be seriously pissed. And I’m afraid you’re going to get caught right in the middle.”
“You might be right. I don’t think Hatch will wait long to make a decision. It should all shake out in the next day or two.”
“What’s going on with the Bradshaws?”
“Amanda and Albert were pronounced dead at the scene of the rollover. So was Janine. Massive head and internal injuries. Walter managed to hang on for a while, but he died early this morning on the operating table.”
“That’s a helleva body count—five dead, Robby, I assume, is hanging on, and three fugitives still on the run.”
“That’s it. So far there’s nothing on Gordon and Joan Dixon or Joey Bradshaw. It’s like they disappeared into thin air. I’d bet they’re either long gone or hiding under a rock someplace waiting for things to cool down. The task force has scattered its personnel all along the Wasatch front. They’re watching bus terminals, airports, and train stations.”
I told Kate about the call from Jack Early and what I’d learned about the drug, TTX. She listened attentively before commenting. “Just goes to show how well planned this little escapade really was. It should clear up any suspicion you might have had regarding the prison medical staff.”
“It does.”
“Has Robby Allred had anything to say?”
“Not a word.”
“And Robin Joiner?”
“Robin was interviewed again last night at the jail by a contingent from the FBI, the sheriff’s office, and my department. From what I can tell, they didn’t learn anything new. I would guess she’ll have her initial court appearance sometime today.”
“Any chance they’ll release her on her own recognizance?”
“I can’t imagine. I’m sure the DA will request high bail. They want to keep her around, and they’ll argue that she’s a flight risk. And she probably is.”
“Were you able to reach her mother?”
“I did, and as far as I know, she’s on her way here from Nevada.”
I headed out the door promising Kate I’d call her as soon as I got out of the meeting with Director Cates. Precisely at noon, I was ushered into his office. I joined several senior staff, mostly prison employees. I still didn’t know why we were meeting, but I was relieved I wasn’t doing a one-on-one with Cates regarding Burnham’s internal investigation.
The meeting focused largely on two issues: Cates wanted a status report on the hunt for the Dixons and Joey Bradshaw. The news wasn’t encouraging. I chimed in with the information Kate had shared with me.
His other agenda item made the senior prison managers uncomfortable. Cates demanded an explanation for the breach in department procedures regarding the security detail that should have accompanied the ambulance transporting Bradshaw to the hospital. By the end of the meeting, it was clear that several prison employees would end up on the receiving end of some as yet to be determined disciplinary action.
As the meeting broke up, Cates turned to me, “Sam, I need to see you for a minute.” After everybody was gone, he said, “I wanted to be sure you were up to speed on the status of the IA investigation against Mr. Burnham.” He spit out the words, “Mr. Burnham,” with as much disdain as his voice would allow.
“Please do,” I said.
“I met over the weekend with representatives from the sheriff’s office. Their investigation is now complete. Sergeant Egan provided us with copies of her reports. I have forwarded them to Rachel Rivers-Blakely.”
I feigned surprise. “Has the case been referred to the district attorney’s office for review?”
He hesitated momentarily before answering. “Not yet,” he lied.
“Would you like me to take care of that?”
“Thanks, but we’ll handle it.”
“I’d like to have copies of Egan’s reports,” I said.
“Not a problem. I’ll have Rachel send them to you.” He scribbled a note in his planner.
He asked for an update on the Ginsberg investigation and I gave it to him. He was trying his best to act interested in what I was saying, but he clearly wasn’t. Mentally, he had moved on to other, more pressing concerns.
In the end, I realized we had just played our own game of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I didn’t tell him about the call I’d received from T.J. Dutton of the sheriff’s department or my subsequent visit with Richard Hatch at the DA’s office. He probably assumed I was out of the loop. In turn, he had neglected to mention dispatching Rivers-Blakely to the DA’s office in a covert attempt to get charges filed against Burnham before informing me.
I wasn’t naïve or at least I didn’t think so. I knew this situation was highly combustible, and that if it blew up, it would likely blow up in my face. And that’s exactly what was about to happen.
Chapter Forty-seven
Kate looked giddy by the time I got back to her office after my meeting with Cates. “You look happy,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Two things. I won the office betting pool on the NFL games yesterday.” She announced that loud enough to be heard all over the office. Heads came up. One detective who I didn’t recognize said, “Blind luck. She couldn’t do it again in a million years.” Another nodded in agreement and quipped, “She wouldn’t know a football from a ping-pong ball.” Everybody laughed including Kate.
“Gloating are we. Well, good for you. What’s the other bit of good news?”
“We got the DNA results on Ambrose and it was a match.” She let that sink in for a minute before adding, “What do you think?”
Silent Witness Page 24
