by Roy Glenn
“Yes, you, Tiffanie. You're the best lawyer I know and there is no one better at speculating on alternate theories of a crime then you.”
“I didn't know you thought of me like that, Marcus, thank you. I'll try my best to live up to that,” Tiffanie said excitedly.
“Yeah, yeah. Are you working on anything right now?”
“Yes. I was working on the Roberts assault case and I was—”
“Tell Janise to give you all the files related to Desireé Ferguson. Give Janise what you're working on and tell her I said to give it to Smitty. “
“The client will be upset.”
“Fuck them. You will still be the primary lawyer and Smitty will report to you. You can still try the case, if it goes to trial, and if necessary you can still act as the primary contact if they objective to strongly to the change, but I need you on this now.”
“Smitty won't like that.”
“Fuck Smitty, he could stand to gain something from working under you. I've had too many conversations with him about his preparation. He's a good lawyer, but he can stand to tighten up. So, how soon can you be here?”
“Give me an hour,” Tiffanie said, straightening up her desk. “Wait a minute. Where is here?”
“My house.”
“You want me to come to your house?”
“What's wrong with that?”
“Randa would lose her mind if she knew I was at your house.”
“Why is that, Tiffanie?” Marcus said impatiently.
“You don't know?”
“I don't know what?”
“Randa has always thought I had a thing for you and that something was going on between us.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Have a thing for me?”
“I work for you, Marcus. That would compromise our working relationship.”
“Good answer. Anyway, I don't think that you have that to worry about. Randa signed the divorce papers.”
“I know. Do you think that makes her less dangerous or more?”
“I'll see you in an hour.”
Since she did have a thing for Marcus, Tiffanie decided to go home first and change into something more comfortable. Something a bit more provocative so he would notice her as a woman. But not too provocative in case Carmen Taylor got her ass over there. But in good taste so she could maintain her professionalism as a lawyer. An hour and a half later, Tiffanie arrived at Marcus' house, dressed tastefully in a red Austin Reed jacket with pants to match. “What took you so long?”
“I went home to change. I didn't know how long we'd be working and I wanted to be comfortable,” Tiffanie said, as she walked by Marcus. As she passed Marcus noticed, maybe for the first time, what an attractive woman Tiffanie was.
“Well, you do look nice like that.”
“Thank you for noticing,” Tiffanie smiled as Marcus led her into the living room.
“Did you give your work to Janise?”
“Yes. And I stopped by and talked to Smitty. I didn't want him to get blindsided by it, or him to have any ill feelings about him reporting to me. And I gave him a little talk about his preparation and gave him some gentle suggestions on way that he can improve. He seemed to take it well.”
“Good,” Marcus said as he sat down across from Tiffanie. “And thank you for taking the time to talk to Smitty.”
“Marcus, you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Is there a future in this for me?”
“How do you mean?”
“Whether you intended it to be or not, you have given me supervisory responsibilities. Or one might assume that you have, since the only one who, prior to this, had supervisory responsibilities in the office was you.”
“Look Tiffanie, we are starting to experience some growth and with the outcome of the Ferguson trial, we will have more. I'm looking for somebody who is willing to step up and assume a greater role. I just told you that I am very impressed with you and the work that you have done for the firm.”
“Some people might think that is the definition of a partner.”
“Damn your ambitious, Tiffanie. But that's the thing I liked about you right from the start. But yes, some people might think that is the definition of a partner. But let's see how this works out before we start talking partner.”
“Fair enough. Let's get started.”
For the next two hours, Marcus went over all the details of the case. While Tiffanie reviewed the files, Marcus went over in detail all of the information related to the case. Then, they began to break it down. “There were no other prints found at the scene?”
“Just the maid, Desireé Ferguson and Rasheed Damali.”
“Anybody check out the maid?”'
“Alibi,” Marcus flipped through a few papers. “Confirmed.”
“No sign of forced entry, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Now, the perp is let in the cabin. No signs of a struggle at the door?” Tiffanie asked looking at the crime scene photos.
“None.”
“His body is found.” Tiffanie shuffled through the crime scene photos. “At the end of this entry hall. That would put him in clear view of Desireé Ferguson in the Jacuzzi.”
“That's right.”
“Well, if that's the case, I have a question.”
“What's that?”
“I'm going to assume that Miss Desireé is in the tub when Mr. Rasheed opened the door.”
“That's the accepted assumption.”
Tiffanie stood up, “So, Mr. Rasheed opened the door and walks back down the entry hall before the perp starts swinging, and all of this is going on while Miss Desireé is coolin' in the tub. What was she doing while all of this was going on?”
“You know, I asked myself that question, too.”
“And?”
“At the time it wasn't relevant to Roland Ferguson's defense.”
“I'm thinking that they knew whoever it was, or at least he did.”
“To answer the door naked, I'd say he knew him, rather well.”
“Okay, it at least had to be somebody that she felt comfortable enough to be naked in front of.”
“The list would be long.”
“Excuse me?'
“To put it delicately, Desireé was comfortable naked around a number of people.”
“She was fucking everybody to put it bluntly.”
Marcus nodded and Tiffanie shook her head.
“Okay, who are those people?”
“She was having sex with Rasheed and a woman named India Cater.”
“Woman?”
“Yes, a woman. According to Garrett, Porsche Temple would have to be on that list and another woman who turned her, but he couldn't get a name. There are a couple of men the she was involved with too. Their names are Axle Grant, Robert Pettibone, and Ira Stinson.”
“At least they are men,” Tiffanie mused. “You have anything on them?”
“No.”
“We'll need to depose each of them. Anybody else?”
“I can't confirm Desireé's association with him, but James Martin would top the list.”
Tiffanie shuffled papers and looked at her notes. “Okay, who is James Martin?”
“Rasheed worked for him as an escort. He owed Martin ten thousand dollars for cocaine he fronted him for escort work he was supposed to do.”
“You say suppose like he didn't do the work.”
“That's why Martin was looking for him. It seemed that Rasheed had a problem keeping it up for the ladies, so Martin had him with men.”
“Men?”
“Yes, men. But Rasheed couldn't do it.”
“Which does give Martin a motive to kill Mr. Rasheed, but not Miss Desireé. Did anybody talk to him?”
“No, he's dead.”
“How'd he die?”
“Carjacking.”
“All right. Mr. Rasheed owing this Martin money does give him the str
ongest motive for murder, Marcus.”
“We did talk to his girlfriend, Patty Morgan. She couldn't confirm his whereabouts on the night of the murder, but she did say that he was not only capable, but she thought Martin did it. Until they arrested Ferguson for it.”
“That makes it even stronger.”
“But he's dead. Hard to pin a murder on a dead man.”
The session continued on in this manner for hours, Tiffanie asking questions and offering theory's most of which had already been explored. “I don't know where else to go with this, Marcus. The only two solid suspects are James Martin and Ferguson. One's dead and the other was found not guilty.”
“Well, thanks anyway, Tiffanie. Maybe we should just turn over what we have to the police.”
“That's what I wanted to ask you!”
“What's that?”
“You said the FBI guys said that each of the murders that they have connected to Hudson Financial were carried out to minimize police involvement.”
“Right. They hinted that there may be someone in the police department working along with them.”
“I know it was just this morning, but have you followed up on that?”
“No,” Marcus said, reaching for the phone. “But I'll call Garrett and put him on it.” The phone rang and Jamara whispered, “Jamara?”
“Yes.”
“This is Marcus, Garrett around?”
“Hold on Marcus. I'll get him.” Then Marcus heard Jamara whisper, “Garrett, wake up, it's Marcus.”
Marcus smiled to himself and waited for Garrett to come to the phone. “This Garrett,” he said, trying to come out of his nod.
“I need you to look into something, and no it's not Porsche Temple. Although I would like to know who the mystery woman is who turned Desireé.”
“I'm all over that. What else?'
“FBI hinted that there may be some police involvement in covering up the murders connected to Hudson Financial.”
“No shit. Who we talking 'bout?”
“Frank and Suzanne Collins, Mondrya Foster, John Heard, and Coleman Wilson.”
“Got them.”
“Garrett, add James Martin to that list, and talk to Patty Morgan. Get the names of the two hookers she thinks Hudson killed.”
“On it, Big Dog. I'll call you back.”
“What do you want me to do now?” Tiffanie asked.
“Just hang loose for minute. I want to see what Garrett turns up.”
“That's fine,” Tiffanie said, sitting in her chair. “Is there anything to eat?”
“No.”
“Is there any food in the house at all, because I'd be happy to cook something.”
“Nope. No food, Tiffanie. Sorry. Do you like pizza?”
“I love pizza. I love Italian food period. Sometimes I think I was born Italian and some black people kidnapped me at birth,” Tiffanie laughed.
“We could order some pizza.”
“What kind? I mean, you aren't one of those people who put weird stuff on it like broccoli or pineapple. Do you?”
“No,” Marcus laughed, “I'm a sausage, mushroom and extra cheese man.”
“If you add some pepperoni to that we got an order.”
“Sausage, pepperoni, and extra cheese it is.”
“Where are you going to order from?”
“There's a place nearby, DeVito's 375. If you don't mind staying and answering the phone in case Garrett calls back, I'll run out and pick it up.”
“I don't mind, but what is Miss Carmen Taylor calls, or worse, what if Randa calls or just shows up?”
“In both cases, Tiffanie, you are here working,” Marcus said picking up the phone.
“In that case, order some bread sticks, too.”
“Anything to drink?”
“Some wine would be nice.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, now that you mention it, a little violin and candle light would create a more suitable atmosphere for the meal,” Tiffanie laughed, but she was serious.
While Tiffanie waited by the phone Marcus went to pick up the pizza. When he got back to the house, Tiffanie was on the phone with Garrett. “I think you'll want to hear this.”
Tiffanie handed the phone to Marcus. “What's up, Garrett?”
“I got what you asked for.”
“And?”
“Benjamin.”
“Benjamin. On which case?”
“On all of them, Big dog. If he wasn't the lead detective, he was involved in some way.”
“Break it down.”
“Tiffanie got all that. And what is Tiffanie doing there and why is she answering the phone?”
“Were working, Garrett,”
“Yeah right. Well you two get to work on that pizza and wine,” Garrett laughed and hung up the phone.
Marcus turned to Tiffanie, who was already hard at work on her first slice. Marcus shook his head and went to the kitchen to get a cork screw. Marcus returned to the den with two glasses and a bottle of Robert Mondavi 2010 Stags Leap Cabernet Sauvignon. He poured a glass for Tiffanie and handed it to her. “Thank you, Marcus.”
“Sorry there's no violins,” Marcus said pouring himself a glass of wine and grabbed a slice. “I'd be interested in hearing your observations of this latest revelation.”
“Well, other than the obvious connection with Benjamin being the lead on all of the cases, I was thinking while you were gone that your Agent Ward was wrong.”
“How so?”
“The Ferguson murder, even though it was violent, it does follow the same pattern as the rest.”
“I say again, how so?”
“Because there was only minimal police involvement.”
“Right, and now that we know there was a police connection—”
“Hold up, wait a minute!” Tiffanie sprang to her feet. “There's a fuckin' anchovy on this slice,” she said, picking the anchovy off the slice. “I think they are so disgusting.”
“It ain't my fault.”
“Anyway, what I was about to say was the FBI has to know about Benjamin. Especially if Garrett could find out in less than an hour. No slight on Garrett's skills, but they have access to all that. So I'm wondering why drop that the way they did?”
“My guess would be that we've been doing a pretty good job investigating this,” Marcus said as the phone rang. “Why not drop that on us and see where we go with it. Anything we turn up only makes their case against Hudson stronger,” he said as he put the phone on speaker. “Hello.”
“Marcus?”
“Yes.”
“This is Joanna Henley.”
“Hi, Joanna, what's up?”
“I got something for you?” Joanna said in a sing-songy way. “You're gonna love this.”
“Spill it, don't leave me hanging on a string.”
“The private investment group that took over Hudson Financial is headed by Roland Ferguson.”
“But I thought that they walked away from the deal?”
“That was their plan all along. When they walked out, it drove the stock price into the dirt. Then they came right back and bought it up cheap.”
“So Ferguson really owns Hudson Financial?”
“Correctamondo.”
“Thanks Joanna, that's just the link we were looking for. I owe you one.”
“Good. Does that mean you'll tell me what you're working on?”
“I'll tell you what, call me tomorrow and I'll give you a front page story.”
IRREFUTABLE
Carmen took the cab to Marcus' house. She got out of the cab and walked slowly toward the door. She had decided not to tell Marcus anything about the gun. She rang the bell and Marcus opened. When he saw it was Carmen, his face lit up. “Carmen, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon.”
“I know I said I would call first, but I missed you. So I just came. I hope that was alright.
“Of course it's all right, Carmen.”
“I know how some men don
't like women to show up unannounced and uninvited.” Carmen said remembering words that Mike Black once told her when she showed up on his doorstep. She went into the living room and sat down on the couch.
“That's true.” Marcus agreed as he moved the pile of papers and files that he and Tiffanie had been working on. “Do you want some pizza?” he asked, picking up the box.
“No, I ate something earlier. But I will have a piece of this candy.” Carmen replied, opening the disk. “Peppermint.” She said. “Paula M. Dent.”
“What did you say?”
“Peppermint.”
“No the name. What was that name?”
“Paula M. Dent.”
“Who is that?”
“You remember Peppermint from Pleasers, don't you?” Carmen smiled and Marcus looked confused. “You remember the dancer I sent you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that is her real name. I told her that Paula M. Dent kinda rhymed with Peppermint. Why?” Now it was Carmen who looked confused. “I mean you act like it's something important.”
“It just may be. After the trial was over, I was with Roland in his study and he was on the phone talking to a Paula Dent.”
“So he knows her. He's a world class freak, like everybody else involved in this mess.”
“May be something, may be nothing. But what if I were to tell you that Roland owns Hudson Financial and that the lead detective in all of the murders was our own detective Benjamin?”
“I'd say that since she knows him, we could at least talk to Peppermint, see what she can tell us.”
Marcus and Carmen left the house and drove to Pleasers. They went inside and looked around for Peppermint. Not seeing her anywhere. Marcus asked one of the other dancers if she was there. The dancers said that Peppermint had just came off stage and she was in the dressing room changing.
“I'll get her,” Carmen said and disappeared quickly into the dressing room. Marcus found a table close to the dressing room door. For the next ten minutes he reluctantly turned away dancer after dancer who came to offer their services for a table dance. Finally, Carmen emerged from the dressing room with Peppermint.
“Peppermint, this is Marcus Douglas. He needs to ask you some questions.”
“I thought y'all wanted a dance,” Peppermint said and Marcus reached in his pocket, peeled off a fifty, and handed it to her.
“This should cover your time.”
