“No, that pretty much covers it, and I still believe it’s true.”
“Look, Walt. I really respect you. You and Ox did some fine work together, but you’re way out in left field on this one.”
“If I am, convince me. What have you got that ties Marchetti to Carson’s murder?”
“Same as last time we talked. Carson was digging into the mob’s protection racket. That’s motive enough right there, but then add to that, Carson was boning his little girl, and you’ve got motive out the wazoo. I didn’t have a body back then, but now I do, and guess what? A plunge in the Muddy Mo wearing cement shoes fits the mob perfectly.”
“I certainly see where you’re coming from, but it seems to me everything you’ve said sounds pretty circumstantial. Do you have any hard evidence, like maybe a witness --- anything?”
He looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Okay, I shouldn’t even be talking to you, but I’ll level with you. Everybody in this city, you included, knows that Marchetti is up to his neck in gambling, drugs, prostitution and protection, but we just haven’t been able to prove it. We may not have any hard evidence, but the brass is convinced that twelve solid citizens on a jury, presented with Marchetti’s motive and opportunity, will jump at the chance to put away Kansas City’s crime boss.”
“Okay, I get it. Carpe diem. Seize the day. Take down the bad guy one way or the other. The ends justify the means. But there’s one huge flaw in your plan.”
“What would that be?”
“If Marchetti didn’t kill Jack Carson, then the real killers are still out there and will get away scot free.”
Blaylock nodded. “I see your point. Let me turn the tables and ask you the same question. You seem convinced the government assassinated Jack Carson. Now you convince me. Where is your evidence?”
I thought about the manila envelope in my safe, but there was no way I was giving that to Blaylock.
When I didn’t respond, he shrugged his shoulders. “That’s what I thought. Someone killed Jack Carson, and I still have to go with Occam’s razor. When two competing theories make the same prediction, the simpler one is better, and in this case, my money has to be on Carmine Marchetti.”
The courthouse was packed. News crews from every TV, radio station and newspaper in town were scrambling to get the best shot of Kansas City’s crime boss being led into the courtroom in handcuffs.
I was barely able to squeeze inside before the doors were closed.
Marchetti was already seated at the defense table accompanied by his attorney, Martin Cheatum, of the law firm, Dewey, Cheatum & Howe. The firm had been successful thus far in keeping Marchetti out of jail, so I wasn’t surprised to see them here this morning.
Seated at the prosecution table was the imposing figure of Grant Marshall, the DA’s top prosecuting attorney. Marshall had the look and the air of an Atticus Finch, the storied attorney from To Kill a Mockingbird, played by Gregory Peck. With Marshall leading the charge, there was no doubt the city was pulling out all stops to get the crime boss behind bars.
The bailiff called out, “All rise for the Honorable Judge Milton Weathers.”
Weathers was known around the courthouse as the ‘Hanging Judge,’ and as soon as I saw him take this place on the bench, I knew the deck had been stacked against Marchetti.
After everyone was seated, the bailiff read the charge, which to no one’s surprise was first degree murder.
Judge Weathers turned to Grant Marshall. “Does the prosecution have a motion as to bail?”
Marshall rose, “Yes, Your Honor, given the serious nature of the charge and the financial status of the defendant as well as his reputation, we believe the defendant to be a flight risk, and ask that bail be denied and the defendant remanded to the county jail until his trial.”
The judge turned to the defense table. “Mr. Cheatum.”
“Your Honor, the defendant is a life-long resident of Kansas City. He is a successful businessman with ties to the community. He has a daughter in the home. If the prosecution feels Mr. Marchetti is a flight risk, he will gladly surrender his passport. We petition the court for reasonable bail.”
Judge Weathers peered over his glasses at Marchetti. “Yes, counselor, the court is well aware of the defendant’s business and his ties to the community, and so knowing, I must agree with Mr. Marshall. Bail denied! The defendant is hereby remanded to the county jail to await trial.”
“Your Honor, please!” Cheatum pleaded, but to no avail.
The judge slammed his gavel. “My decision is final. Next case.”
The courtroom emptied quickly as reporters rushed to get their stories finalized.
I had just stepped into the hall when a beefy hand grabbed my arm. “Mr. Marchetti will see you --- now!”
I had tried to imagine how Marchetti thought I could help his case, but I came up empty.
I was about to find out.
CHAPTER 10
Marchetti’s stooge led me to a room reserved for defendants and their attorneys. I could see the look of surprise on Martin Cheatum’s face when I entered.
“Carmine! What the hell is Williams doing here? He was a cop, for chrissakes. He plays for the other side.”
“Actually, Mr. Cheatum,” I replied indignantly, “I’m a private investigator, and for your information, I don’t play sides.”
“Calm down, Martin,” Marchetti ordered. “Walt’s here at my invitation. I think he could be helpful.”
Given the fact that I had been escorted to the room by a musclebound Neanderthal, I thought ‘invitation’ was a bit misleading, but I kept my mouth shut.
Marchetti turned back to me. “Walt, can you believe it? They’re trying to pin Carson’s murder on me! It’s a bum rap and you and I both know it. I didn’t have that reporter iced.”
“I believe you, Mr. Marchetti, but what I believe really doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the prosecution thinks they can make a case.”
“Okay, you knew the guy. If I didn’t whack him, who did?”
I doubted Marchetti knew anything about Carson’s pursuit of the chemtrail conspiracy, and I wasn’t about to open that can of worms yet.
“Could be anybody,” I replied evasively. “Carson was an investigative reporter. I’m sure he pissed off a lot of people over the years.”
“Yeah, well, that’s where you come in, Mr. Gumshoe. You need to find out who else had a hard on for the guy, and get me off the hook.”
“I want to help. I really do. Could we talk privately for a moment?”
Marchetti nodded to Cheatum. “Give us a minute, Martin.”
Reluctantly, Cheatum left the room.
“Now, what’s so important my attorney couldn’t be here?”
“I’m going to level with you Mr. Marchetti. You know I used to play for the other side and I know how they operate. I’m telling you the state’s not pulling any punches. Grant Marshall is their best prosecutor and Milton Weathers is known as the hanging judge. No offense, but you need the best lawyer you can get.”
“So what’s wrong with Cheatum? His firm has kept my butt out of jail so far.”
“It’s one thing to beat a drug or prostitution rap, but this is murder one. If you’re convicted, you could get life without parole or even the death penalty.”
“So who do you suggest?”
“Suzanne Romero. She’s the best defense attorney in the state.”
“Yeah, I heard she’s good, but I’m bettin’ she wouldn’t come close to me given my --- uhhh --- reputation and alleged ties to the mob.”
“That could be, but I may have some influence there. Look, I want to be totally honest with you. I don’t condone what you do, and I certainly don’t want to work for you, but I also don’t believe you killed Jack Carson. He was my friend, and if you’re convicted, then the real killer is going to get away with murder. I just wanted that up front. Now do you want me to talk to Suzanne Romero or not?”
Marchetti smiled. “Y
ou’ve got big balls for an old dude. I respect that. Sure, talk to the lady and let’s see where this goes.”
As I left the room, I wondered if my big balls had written a check my big mouth couldn’t cash. I now had to convince one of the city’s most respected attorneys to represent the godfather of the Kansas City Mafia.
Suzanne Romero was the defense attorney most feared by the Kansas City police, not because she was ruthless or vicious, but because she was a stickler for the letter of the law. Many an officer who had not followed procedure in an arrest, or a prosecutor who had not dotted his I’s or crossed his T’s, found themselves at her mercy in the courtroom, and many offenders had walked because law enforcement had not done their job properly.
Singlehandedly, she had done more to make officers in the field follow the book than anything their superiors could have said.
Knowing her reputation, we hired her on two separate occasions.
My good friend, and housemother at the Three Trails Hotel, Mary Murphy, shot and killed an intruder who had threatened her with a knife. An overzealous prosecutor, wanting to make an example of her because of a rash of vigilante murders, took her to court.
Later on, Ox and I were framed for the theft of valuable King Tut artifacts by a pair of dirty cops.
Both times, Suzanne prevailed.
A byproduct of these two cases was the development of a mutual respect, and when I retired and opened my P.I. firm, Suzanne hired Kevin and me to help clear one of her clients.
I wasn’t at all convinced that our past association would be enough to persuade her to represent a crime boss.
At least, it was enough to get an interview.
“Walt, good to see you again. Please don’t tell me Mary Murphy has struck again.”
“No, nothing like that, thank goodness. I’m sure you’ve been following the news stories about Carmine Marchetti being arrested for the murder of Jack Carson.”
“Of course. It’s been on the front page every day. Too bad. Jack Carson was a gifted reporter. He came to me several times for background material on stories he was writing. I know the city has been after Marchetti for a long time. It’s just a shame that Jack’s death had to be the thing that brought him down.”
This was the moment I had been dreading. “That’s why I’m here Suzanne. Carmine Marchetti didn’t kill Jack Carson and I know who did.”
Suzanne sat in stunned silence. “You know this how?”
“Because Jack and I were working on a story so big it cost the lives of three people, and now Jack is the fourth.”
She shook her head. “Walt, you never cease to amaze me. Start from the beginning. Let’s hear it.”
I knew if I was going to convince her to represent Marchetti, I would have to convince her that the chemtrail conspiracy was real, so I started with Jack’s first call wanting me to get more information about Falcon’s accident from Ox, right up to the time Carson disappeared. I did not tell her about the manila envelope in my safe.
The expression on her face as I was telling my story was probably the same face she would have made if I had been sharing an experience of being abducted by aliens.
When I was finished, her response was exactly like Derek Blaylock’s. “So you’re telling me Jack Carson was the victim of hired assassins sent by a government cabal involving the Navy, Air Force, the CIA, the NSA and God knows how many other alphabet organizations, to cover up his exposé of a clandestine conspiracy to spray poison into our atmosphere to control the weather, prevent the Russians from pelting us with ICBM’s, and allow Monsanto to take control of the world’s food supply.”
At least, I was consistent.
“And you really believe this?”
“Tell me you’ve never noticed the trails in the sky stretching from one horizon to the other.”
“Of course I’ve seen them. Everyone has, but --- my God --- this is way too much to process. Okay, let’s put your incredible story aside for a moment. What makes you think Marchetti isn’t involved? You have to admit it’s a MUCH simpler explanation.”
“That’s exactly what the prosecution thinks. All they have is a possible motive, Carson digging into Marchetti’s business and his relationship with his daughter and the way Carson met his death which looks like a mob hit. Other than that, they’ve got squat. Nothing. No hard evidence connecting Marchetti to Carson’s murder. Blaylock told me in confidence they’re counting on this being enough to persuade a jury to put away a really bad guy.”
“Aside from your alternate theory, you really believe he’s innocent?”
“When Carson first went missing, Blaylock convinced me that Marchetti was the most logical suspect, so like I told you, I confronted him. Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but he looked me in the eye and swore on his mother’s grave he was not involved. He said no matter how much he disliked the guy, his daughter would never forgive him for killing the man she loved, and he couldn’t bear that. I believed him.”
“So what do you want from me?”
“I want you to represent him.”
“Good Lord. If what I hear is true, Carmine Marchetti’s organization is into drugs, prostitution, and God knows what else. He’s a scumbag. Why would I want to help a man like that?”
“Because you believe in the letter of the law. Marchetti may be a creep, but he’s being railroaded, and if he’s convicted, then Jack Carson’s real killer will get away with murder. Can you live with that?”
She smiled. “You’re good, Walt, real good. You know just what buttons to push. I need to think about it. I mean, that story of yours --- well --- it’s pretty hard to swallow.”
I figured that might be the case, so I brought a copy of Thornhill’s novel, Lady Justice and the Conspiracy. His story, while fiction, really hit home, and presented our case better than I ever could.
I handed her the book. “Promise me you’ll read this before you make a decision. I know you’ll do the right thing.”
The next morning, the phone rang.
“Walt, Suzanne here. I’m in!”
CHAPTER 11
The first meeting with Marchetti and his new counsel was memorable.
“Ms. Romero, pleased to meet you. When I told Martin Cheatum what was going on, he freaked. Walked right out on me. Told me not to call him to bail me out when you screwed things up. I hope you’re worth it.”
“Oh, trust me, Carmine. I’m worth it.”
“I’m counting on it. Here’s what we’re going to do ---.”
Suzanne cut him off. “If I’m going to represent you, we’re going to have to establish some ground rules. First of all, I don’t like you even a little bit. I may represent you, but I’m not one of your lackeys. You’re going to have to get used to the idea that I’m the boss and you’ll do whatever I tell you to do. If that’s not agreeable, then I’m out of here and you’ll go to jail. Do we have an understanding?”
I’m quite sure no one, especially a woman, had ever spoken that way to Carmine Marchetti.
I saw him bristle, and was expecting a tirade, but the thought of spending the rest of his life in jail made him reconsider.
Still, he had to save face, so he turned to me. “Wow, Walt! She’s a hot one for sure. I like that!”
Then to Suzanne. “Okay, Sweetie, I’ll play ball. Let’s see what you got.”
“Never call me ‘Sweetie’ again,” she shot back. “It’s Ms. Romero or Counselor to you.”
Once there was a mutual understanding, she got to work.
“I’ve looked at the prosecutor’s evidence, and like Walt said, everything they have thus far is circumstantial. The problem is, Carmine, pretty much everyone in Kansas City knows you’re a douche bag, and they’re counting on that being enough to convince a jury to take you off the street.”
“Great! Just great! My own attorney is calling me names. What chance have I got!”
“I’m just calling it like it is. My job, as distasteful as it is, is to make you look as g
ood as possible to the jury and convince them that the state just doesn’t have enough hard evidence to lock you away. Walt, I want to hire you as my investigator. In order to create reasonable doubt, we need to find someone else to point the finger at who had motive and means. That’s your job. Bring me another viable suspect to throw at the jury.”
We both knew she was talking about a government assassin. We just didn’t know how yet.
“Okay, that’s all for today. Jury selection starts tomorrow and I’ve got a lot of work to do. It’s not going to be easy to find even one person, let alone twelve, who doesn’t want to see your sorry ass in jail.”
Marchetti threw up his hands. “Great! Just great!”
That evening, I figured I’d better have a family conference to bring everyone in my small circle up to speed. I invited Kevin and Veronica to supper and prepared my signature dish, tuna casserole.
I decided the best time to make my announcement was over big slices of key lime pie. Kevin had just shoveled a huge bite in his mouth when I dropped my bomb.
“Well, it looks like Walt Williams Investigations will be working to free Carmine Marchetti.”
Kevin nearly choked. “You’ve got to be kidding! When word gets around that we’re working with a creep like that, no respectable client will hire us.”
Maggie was visibly upset. “Walt, have you thought this through?”
“Actually, I have. There’s two reasons I took the job --- well --- maybe three. First we owe the guy. Remember when the Columbians were shoving the two of us into their van? If Carmine’s men hadn’t intervened, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Second, Kevin, you know as well as I do, that Marchetti didn’t kill Jack. He was killed by assassins to prevent him from exposing the chemtrail conspiracy. If Carmine goes down for this, that’s the end of it and that will make four people they’ve killed with impunity. And third, Suzanne Romero is representing Marchetti and she asked me to help. If Suzanne is willing to risk her reputation to see that justice is served, then that’s good enough for me.”
The Chemtrail Conspiracy Set (Lady Justice Book 22) Page 20
