by Mark Nolan
Jake’s phone buzzed and he saw that it was his editor Norman calling him. He answered and said, “Sorry, you have the wrong number.”
“Listen, we just picked up some chatter on a police frequency scanner,” Norman said. “Another attorney has been assassinated. This one at a home on Mount Tam, on the edge of Muir Woods.”
“Let me guess. Since I’m in Sausalito I’m closer to Mill Valley at the moment than anyone else from the news station.”
“Obviously, why else would I give the story to you, when you are such a wise ass?”
“That’s better than being a dumb ass. And it’s so nice to be appreciated by my boss. I’d tell you to kiss my wise ass, but I was heading in that direction anyway.”
“Sure you were; what kind of a fool do you think I am?”
“I don’t know; how many kinds are there? Is it like Baskin Robbins thirty-one flavors, with all of those varieties?”
“Listen to me you…”
Jake interrupted him. “I’m driving into the rainbow tunnels under the hills. You’re breaking up…” Jake made static sounds and whooshing noises with his mouth.
As Jake ended the call, he heard Norman say, “Sausalito is already on the other side of those tunnels.”
Jake laughed and said to Cody, “The heck with that guy, right buddy?”
Cody barked once, grinned and panted Ha-Ha-Ha.
“Atta boy.”
Jake and Cody got into the Jeep and drove fast toward Muir Woods. The news desk people kept calling and updating Jake on the situation as he drove. There was a woman at the scene. They didn’t have a name yet, but there was chatter on the police scanner that she’d appeared on television recently.
Jake arrived at the house and parked on the street. He grabbed his DSLR camera and also the lightweight handheld news video camera that belonged to the TV station. He told Cody to stay in the car, and Cody did not like that one bit. Jake left the Jeep’s windows and moon roof open a couple of inches to give Cody some fresh air. The sun was setting and the air was cool. Cody would not get hot in the car.
Cody started growling but Jake said, “Cody I know you’re able to unlock and open these car doors. But do not open them. Remain inside the vehicle for your own safety. That’s an order. Do you hear me Marine?”
Cody huffed in acknowledgement. He didn’t like the order but he would obey it. Unless he decided that Jake needed his help. Then all orders were forgotten.
Jake got out of the vehicle, and a Mill Valley Police officer challenged him. The officer checked Jake’s Press ID and driver’s license and said, “Stay behind the police tape, this is a crime scene.”
“Yes sir, no problem officer,” Jake said and smiled like a compliant sheep. He wanted to add, “I know it’s a crime scene, why else would I be here?”
Jake stood there and innocently fiddled with his video camera until the cop looked away at someone else. Jake noticed that the police were questioning a man who was wearing a chef’s outfit. They had the chef assuming the position against a van with a catering logo on the side. While they searched him and patted him down, Jake took a few quick pictures and wondered what the story was with the chef. Was he the killer in disguise? No, the guy looked totally shocked at what was happening. He was obviously just here to cook a meal for his wealthy client.
The other news people stayed in front of the house as the police had instructed them to do, but Jake had other plans. He quietly made his way around the right side of the home, then went down a wooden walkway to the far end of the deck. He was technically still behind the yellow police tape because the cops had run it along the side of the house and across the entrance to the deck. The cops were on that side of the tape, and he was on this side. He was taking video of this and sending a copy to his cloud computing backup so he could prove in court that he hadn’t crossed the tape. Another police officer stopped him at the place where the wooden walkway met the back deck, and he repeated the order.
“Stay behind this tape, understood?” The officer’s tone of voice changed when he recognized Jake. “Hey Jake, what brings you to our neck of the woods?”
Jake recognized his friend Craig and he said, “Just slumming it here in Mill Valley today Craig. How’s life been treating you buddy?”
“Same old, same old. I can’t complain. Not much crime in this sleepy town of rich folks. Until today that is.”
“I guess I wandered into this deck area by accident. But I won’t interfere with your work or the crime scene. I just want to get some pictures with my telephoto lens.”
“Okay, but stay put and be quiet. Don’t cause any trouble.”
“You’ve got it Craig, no worries.”
Craig got a call on his phone, and he walked away to talk in privacy. Jake peered through his camera’s telephoto lens and got a closer view of the deck area. The murder scene was surreal. He saw a man who appeared to be dead, sitting in a hot tub filled with blood-red water. And there were two uniformed police officers who had a bikini-clad blonde woman standing at attention with her hands handcuffed in front of her.
Jake shot some still photos and then switched back to the TV video camera and started taking more video. He set the camera on a lightweight telescoping tripod that he took out of his camera bag, and he plugged the camera into a small tablet computer. He could use either the house’s WIFI or his phone’s network to quickly send the video to his editor at the news station.
Jake looked again at the dead man in the hot tub and saw an arrow shaft protruding from his chest. By the angle of the arrow, it was clear to see that the woman hadn’t shot the man up close. The shot must have come from a distance. Jake was curious about the source of the arrow, and he swiveled the video camera away from the house and used the zoom to search for clues. He saw another home some distance away that had a deck. On the deck was a telescope on a stand. The telescope was pointed toward the forest area, and Jake followed its estimated trajectory until he found a tree that hid a well-concealed weapon on a branch. Looking at the weapon with his zoom lens, he saw that it appeared to be some kind of crossbow with a small video camera attached.
Jake waved at his police friend Craig, and when he came closer, Jake pointed at his tablet. “Take a look at this video feed, Craig. There’s a weapon in that tree. And over at that house, there’s a telescope on the deck that is pointed right at that tree. Somebody, there may be a witness.”
“Nice find, I’ll call our guys who are searching the area.”
Craig gave a fist bump to Jake and then made a call on his phone. Jake was glad he could help his buddy and do a favor for the Mill Valley Police Dept.
Now Jake looked over at the woman in the swimsuit. She certainly didn’t look like she was carrying any concealed weapons hidden in her tiny bikini. Jake felt that the use of handcuffs on her was somewhat ridiculous. On the other hand, he knew that cops and soldiers were trained to secure this type of situation, and were actually ordered to handcuff any hostage they were rescuing, just to prevent surprises. Orders were orders, and protocol had to be followed to ensure safety.
One cop was really tall and muscular. He was asking questions and looking the woman up and down. It was hard not to, she had made every effort today to get a man’s attention. But she wasn’t answering any of his questions, she just stood there crying. This was neither the man nor the attention she’d had in mind. The woman looked familiar to Jake, and he turned his camera toward her and zoomed in on her face.
The woman had her back to Jake, but when she turned her head for a moment, he saw the side of her face and recognized her. She was a model-actress named Kelli Ivarsson, one of Gwen’s friends that Jake had met several times at social occasions. Jake got along well with Kelli, and he’d always thought she was a nice person, smart and happy and easy to talk to. Not stuck up like some other actors and models were. He was sorry to see her in this difficult situation. The other cop was a female, and she was polite and professional. The police officers in this town were the best
cops anybody could ask for. The one cop was not typical at all. He must be a new guy who was fired up by the rare crime in this wealthy bedroom community.
As Jake stood there thinking he should call a lawyer for Kelli, a distinguished looking older gentleman appeared next to him. The man was wearing a well-made Italian suit, expensive shoes and a nice overcoat that all spoke of money and success. Jake recognized the man as a powerful attorney he knew named Gregory “Bart” Bartholomew. Jake had known the attorney for many years. Bart’s daughter had held her wedding at the winery in Sonoma that was owned by Jake’s parents. The silver-haired man spoke in a cultured voice he’d picked up at Harvard Law School in Boston.
“Well hello Jacob my good man, would you please be so kind as to record my work here on video? You’ll be generously compensated by my law firm of course.”
“No problem Bart, I’d be happy to help you with this. Also, that woman right there is a friend of mine. I hope you’re here to act as her attorney. If not I’d like to hire you to represent her, starting immediately.”
“That’s quite noble of you young man but don’t worry about your friend, she is my brand new client as of this very moment, and I will use every power at my command to have her free of custody as quickly as possible.”
“Thanks, Bart. Those two have been trying the good cop bad cop thing, but Kelli hasn’t been saying a word.”
Jake showed Bartholomew the tablet that was recording the scene. He flicked his finger across the screen, and it then showed the news website where he worked. The video could be seen playing on the news in real time. There was a superimposed square in the corner that displayed a woman’s face as she commented on the situation.
The “bad cop” pointed his finger at Kelli. Jake turned up the volume on the video camera’s powerful microphone, and they heard the cop say, “You could go to the electric chair for murder, do you hear me?”
Jake was broadcasting it live, and everyone viewing the news on TV or online could hear it too. Kelli had her eyes closed, and she was crying.
“I… want… my… attorney,” Kelli said as she sobbed.
Bartholomew noted the storm cloud passing across Jake’s face, and he thought that perhaps he’d arrived just in time to prevent the occasionally hot-blooded young man from stupidly attempting to rescue yonder fair maiden and getting himself arrested for interfering with a crime investigation. Bart made a gesture toward his ear and also at the video camera that mimicked turning down a volume knob. Jake understood, and he muted the microphone.
“It is perfectly normal for a police officer to talk that way at a murder scene, he’s just shaking the tree to see what might fall out,” Bartholomew said. “But now that Kelli has requested her attorney on live television it is time for me to intervene. The Mill Valley Chief of Police might call or show up here soon. I talked to the chief and the mayor while I was in my car. They want to avoid having the news media say the words ‘Mill Valley’ in the same sentence with ‘high-priced prostitute’ if that can be avoided.”
Jake nodded. “FYI the murder weapon is a crossbow, mounted way over there in that tree. You know Kelli didn’t put it there, she wouldn’t know a crossbow from a CrossFit class.”
Jake showed Bart some video of the crossbow weapon up in the tree. Next, he took a small wireless microphone out of his pocket and attached it to Bart’s tie. The mic looked like a tie bar, and nobody would pay attention to it. Jake then stepped back, turned up the audio volume, focused the TV camera on the attorney, and counted with his fingers. Three, two, one, go.
Chapter 42
With the TV camera focused on him, Bartholomew politely announced himself to the nearest police officer. He stepped over the police tape, and held up his business card and driver’s license for identification.
“Gregory Bartholomew, attorney at law, here to see my client, Miss Kelli Ivarsson, the witness to this crime.”
As the officer took his time inspecting the ID and the gold-embossed business card, Bartholomew said, “The witness requested her attorney, and she was seen on television doing it. If you have any problem with my ID we can get your Chief of Police and the Mayor on the phone right now, and you can explain your delay to them personally.”
Bart held out his phone and displayed a photo of the Chief of Police on the screen, standing next to the mayor and Bart. One push of his finger and a call would be placed to the officer’s boss. The officer recognized the well-known and powerful attorney and he knew that the man rarely ever lost a case. Besides that, he also served on the city council and played golf with the Mayor and the Chief of Police. This was not a guy he wanted to be on the wrong side of.
The officer handed the ID back to Bartholomew and said, “Proceed.”
As Bartholomew passed by the officer, he pointed at Jake and said, “And that man there is working for my law firm in an official capacity to record details of this scene for our legal case. His name is Jacob Wolfe and his camera holds evidence that is admissible in a court of law.”
The officer looked over at Jake and frowned.
“Neither he nor his camera may be interfered with in any way, or that will be considered tampering with evidence,” Bartholomew said. “That is a serious crime with serious penalties. Is that understood, my friend?”
The officer fought to control his urge to punch the lawyer in the mouth and say that he wasn’t his friend. But he just spoke into the radio to inform the two offers detaining the suspect that her attorney was approaching them and that his ID had checked out. Bartholomew’s eyes quickly took in more details of the crime scene as he walked directly up to Kelli, and announced himself again.
“Gregory Bartholomew, attorney at law. This young lady is my client.”
Bart took off his long overcoat and placed it over Kelli’s shoulders to cover her up. Her hands were still cuffed in front of her, and she couldn’t put her arms through the sleeves. Bart placed the front edges of the coat between her fingers so she could hold it closed.
Kelli sighed in relief to have the coat on. She’d felt so exposed and helpless, all alone, locked in cuffs. Bartholomew quietly whispered some reassuring words into Kelli’s ear. He asked her if she had said anything to the police, and asked if they had explained her legal rights to her. When she shook her head no, he said something further and although she continued crying she nodded her head in understanding. Kelli knew she was lucky that Bart had arrived quickly before the police could make her say things she would regret. They were skilled in the art of getting confessions out of people. For the first time since she’d fainted, Kelli began to feel some hope of getting free of this nightmare. If only she had pushed the other icon on the dating website; the “Decline Date Proposal” icon.
Bartholomew put his hand protectively on his client’s shoulder and turned to the two police officers who were detaining her. Puffing out his chest and using his most blustery Shakespearian oratory skills, he began to lecture them on the law.
“As Ms. Ivarsson’s attorney, I wish to go on record that my client will not be answering any questions at this time. It would be improper procedure since she has been drinking champagne and is also in a state of shock. Nothing she has said or could say now would be admissible in any court of law. Also, you two would both be reprimanded by your Chief of Police for improperly questioning my client under these circumstances and failing to inform her of her Miranda rights to remain silent.”
The male officer did not look the least bit impressed with Bartholomew’s speech, and he said, “She was not under arrest yet or being formally questioned. So we were not legally required to tell her about her rights to remain silent or to have an attorney present during questioning.”
Bartholomew knew this was true and that the police try to get people talking before the arrest when they might admit to something. He tried to bluff the officer with legal double-talk.
“Nonsense, you detained her and handcuffed her so if she was not under arrest I could have criminal charges brought
against you both for battery, kidnapping, and false imprisonment. Also, because you’ve stated that my client is not under arrest, I hereby request that you remove those handcuffs immediately and allow her to leave.”
“Your client is a suspect in a murder, and she’s going to have to answer some questions downtown,” the officer said.
“My client was a witness to a murder, and I will not stand for any witness intimidation of any kind from any person. Witness intimidation is a class C felony crime, punishable by up to three years in a federal penitentiary for each count. I promise you that anybody who intimidates this witness in any way at all will be prosecuted as a criminal to the fullest extent of the law if it takes me the rest of my life.”
Both officers stared at Bartholomew in doubt, the male officer kept a noncommittal look on his face and said, “We always treat anyone found at the scene of a crime as a potential suspect. There was no intimidation; this was only about securing the situation.”
The other officer blinked a few times as she thought about this threat of criminal prosecution for the charges the attorney was coming up with. She was not afraid of accusations of police misconduct or reviews by the Internal Affairs people, but a felony criminal indictment was some serious business that had cost other cops their jobs in various cities across the country. Could any of what he was saying be true, or was he just blowing smoke?
Bartholomew was hoping to cause temporary confusion. “There is also a question of potential sexual harassment claims that could be made by my client against you and the department. I recently settled a similar case against a nearby city municipality where the jury awarded five million dollars in damages. In addition to financial costs, there would also be the cost to your reputations at work, in the community and in the news media.”
