Fugitive

by Phillip Margolin

  “I will tie this up, Your Honor,” Amanda promised.

  “I’ll let you continue, but I will cut you off if I conclude you’re fishing.”

  “Your Honor, Mr. Rose can cut me off by pleading the Fifth,” Amanda shot back.

  Judge Gomez considered what Amanda had just said. Then she turned to the witness.

  “Miss Jaffe is correct, Mr. Rose. If at any time you believe that your answer to Miss Jaffe’s question would be an admission of criminal wrongdoing, you are permitted to assert your Fifth Amendment right not to incriminate yourself. Do you understand that?”

  “I do,” Rose answered as he sat up straight in the witness box and smoothed out his suit jacket. “But I have nothing to hide, Your Honor.”

  “Very well. You may continue, Miss Jaffe.”

  “Did Mr. Pope order you to kill Charlie Marsh when Mr. Marsh left the courthouse after his bail hearing?”

  “No.”

  “Did he threaten to kick you out of your position at Mercury Enterprises if you didn’t murder Charlie Marsh and Sally Pope?”

  “No.”

  “But he was briefing you about Mr. Marsh’s case?”

  “No, he wasn’t.”

  “Do you remember being interviewed by Kate Ross, my investigator, the day before Mr. Marsh flew back to Portland?”

  “Yes.”

  “Toward the end of the interview she asked you if you were still mad at Mr. Marsh.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you said that was water under the bridge and you asked her to tell Mr. Marsh that you had no hard feelings when she saw him the next day.”

  “So?”

  “How did you know Mr. Marsh was flying into Portland the next day?”

  “I…I don’t know.” Rose eyes shifted nervously. “I must have heard it on the news.”

  “Mr. Marsh flew to Portland on a private jet. His arrival time was a tightly held secret. The media knew nothing about the flight until the day after Ms. Ross interviewed you. That’s when a reporter for World News tipped them off. Mr. Marsh was in New York before he flew to Portland. I can produce everyone in New York who knew Mr. Marsh’s flight plans. They will swear under oath that they did not reveal this information to you.

  “Aside from my father, Kate Ross, and me, Karl Burdett was the only Oregonian who knew when Mr. Marsh would arrive. If you knew the date, the information could only have come from Mr. Burdett or from someone he told, like his biggest contributor, Arnold Pope Sr., a man with a burning interest in the case of the man who allegedly killed his son. So, I ask you again, did Arnold Pope brief you about Mr. Marsh’s case?”

  “Objection,” Curry shouted. “This line of questioning is totally irrelevant to these proceedings. Miss Jaffe doesn’t have a shred of evidence to support her accusations.”

  “I might have an eyewitness,” Amanda said, “if Mr. Pope thought that Mr. Rose killed his son.”

  “What!” Rose shouted.

  “You told Kate Ross that you were at your car in the parking lot of the Westmont when Arnold Pope Jr. was shot, but Ralph Day will testify that you were in the crowd watching Delmar Epps fight with one of the security guards. The gun that was used to shoot the congressman was large and unwieldy and Mr. Epps usually kept it in his waistband. If Mr. Epps was carrying the gun and the gun fell out when Mr. Epps was fighting, you could have grabbed it.”

  “Why would I want to kill Arnold Pope Jr.? I’d never met the man.”

  “What if you didn’t mean to kill him? What if you meant to kill his wife, Sally Pope, who had dumped you and refused to talk to you shortly before the shooting? What if you aimed at Sally Pope and killed her husband by mistake? If that happened, you could have tossed the gun away after you killed the congressman. Then you could have lied to Mr. Pope and told him that you refused Sally Pope’s request to kill her husband and you could have agreed to testify against the woman Mr. Pope hated. If Mrs. Pope went to prison the police would stop looking for the congressman’s killer. If Mr. Pope gained custody of his grandson a very wealthy man would be in your debt.”

  “Objection!” Curry shouted. “This is pure speculation. Miss Jaffe is making a jury argument in a criminal case. She’s supposed to be asking questions in a custody matter. Her entire line of questioning is irrelevant.”

  While Curry was talking, Rose stole a look at Arnold Pope. The old man was leaning forward, his eyes riveted on the witness. Beads of sweat formed on Rose’s brow.

  “I’m inclined to agree, Miss Jaffe,” Judge Gomez said. “Your allegations are very serious and I won’t let you pursue them unless you can assure me that you have very strong evidence to support them.”

  “May we have a minute, Your Honor?” Frank asked.

  “Go ahead,” the judge said.

  Frank leaned close to his daughter so no one would hear what he said.

  “Amanda, do you have a shred of evidence that Rose killed Junior?”

  “I never accused him of killing Pope. I just asked a lot of questions beginning with ‘what if.’”

  “You can’t just toss around accusations of murder like that. I think you should drop this line of questioning.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve accomplished what I wanted to achieve.”

  Amanda stood up. “I don’t have any further questions of Mr. Rose,” she told the judge.

  “I think this would be a good time to recess for the day,” Judge Gomez said.

  Amanda sat down and watched Tony Rose hurry out of the courtroom. Then she shifted her gaze to Arnold Pope, whose eyes were following Rose’s retreating back with a look of pure hatred. Several rows behind Senior, a black man stood up and worked his way toward the door to the courtroom. Amanda’s heartbeat accelerated. Then she calmed down. She’d thought the man was Nathan Tuazama but Tuazama did not wear tortoiseshell glasses.

  “Do you really think Rose murdered Sally?” Liam O’Connell asked as the courtroom emptied out. He looked stunned.

  “Someone wanted Charlie and Sally dead and that person went to great lengths to have them killed. The only person I can think of who would hate them that much is Senior. He couldn’t do the job himself but he could have forced Rose to do it. If Rose were kicked out of Mercury Enterprises he would lose a fortune, and he’s skilled enough as a marksman to have made the attempt on Charlie at the courthouse.

  “The day I told Karl Burdett that Charlie was returning to Oregon, he copied his file. No one in the DA’s office knows anything about that copy, so who did he give it to? The only person who would be that interested would be Senior.”

  “And you think Pope told Rose when Marsh was flying in?” O’Connell asked.

  “Who else would Burdett have spoken to?”

  “Will the police arrest Rose?”

  “Not unless they dig up more evidence,” Amanda said as she packed the last of her papers in her attaché case and headed out of the courtroom. “You can’t get an indictment with guesses.”

  “That was straight out of Perry Mason,” Dennis Levy said as soon as Amanda stepped into the hall.

  “Except Rose didn’t break down and confess. In real life, Dennis, witnesses deny, deny, deny, no matter how much evidence you throw at them.”

  “Then why did you cross-examine him like that?”

  “To create doubt in the judge’s mind about Senior’s suitability as a guardian and to drive a wedge between Senior and Rose that might be useful at Charlie’s trial.”

  “Would you give me an exclusive interview about the custody case? If I write this up now I can get my story in this week’s edition of World News.”

  “Sure, Dennis,” Amanda said as soon as Liam and Frank were out of earshot. “I wanted to talk to you about the photograph from the Dunthorpe seminar, anyway.”

  Dennis turned pale. “What photograph?”

  “Please don’t play games with me. Kate saw it when she went through the file but it wasn’t there after you went through the file. I know what it shows. I’ve seen the
original. If you return it to me with any copies you’ve made I’ll let you stay on the inside in Charlie’s case. Keep the photograph and I will do everything in my power to make sure that someone else writes Charlie’s book. So, what will it be?”

  “You can’t intimidate me,” Dennis said, but the quiver in his voice contradicted his words.

  “Blackmail is a felony, Dennis.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Amanda stared hard at Levy. Sweat formed on the reporter’s brow.

  “I’m going to my office. When you know what you’re going to do, let’s talk. You’ve been telling everyone what this book will do for your career, the notoriety you’ll achieve, the money you’ll make. Achieve your fame and fortune honestly, Dennis. Give back the photo.”

  Amanda turned and walked away. Dennis watched her leave. He suddenly realized that he was shaking. There was a bench a few feet away. He needed to sit down. Then he needed to decide what he was going to do.

  CHAPTER 46

  Tony Rose was desperate to talk to Arnold Pope but reporters mobbed him when he left the courthouse and hounded him all the way to his car. Rose barely avoided destroying a reporter’s handheld microphone when he slammed the door of his Ferrari. He was wondering if he could back out of his parking space without running over someone when the reporters suddenly disappeared. Rose looked out of his back window and saw the mob rushing toward the courthouse to ambush Pope and Derrick Barclay.

  Rose had no idea what was going on in Pope’s twisted mind, but he knew that he had to convince Senior that Jaffe’s accusations were crazy. He closed his eyes and followed the deep-breathing routine he’d used to calm himself during tense moments in his tennis matches.

  Pope’s limousine stopped in front of the courthouse and Barclay helped his employer into the backseat. They were probably going to Pope’s estate. Rose was debating the wisdom of following the limo when his cell phone rang.

  “Mr. Pope wants you at the house at ten o’clock tonight,” Derrick Barclay said in that imperious tone that set Rose’s teeth on edge.

  “He doesn’t think…?” Rose started, but Barclay had already hung up.

  Rose swallowed hard and reversed out of his space. He was so intent on his problems that he didn’t notice Pierre Girard’s nondescript brown Toyota follow him out of the lot.

  AT EXACTLY TEN o’clock, Tony Rose parked his Ferrari in front of Arnold Pope’s mansion. He was still shaken by the summons. Rose made a lot of money but he’d spent plenty over the years. His cars and his houses cost a fortune to keep up and he was always inches away from bankruptcy. Only his king-size salary and overly generous bonuses kept the wolf from his door. That’s why he’d agreed to kill Charlie Marsh and Sally Pope. Senior had known he was a marksman when he suggested the hits to Rose. When Rose balked, Senior used the threat of firing him from Mercury as the stick and a seven-figure payoff disguised as a bonus for his work as Mercury’s president as the carrot.

  Now Rose felt helpless. Who knew what Senior was thinking after hearing the ravings of O’Connell’s lunatic attorney? If Pope believed everything Jaffe said he might kick him out of Mercury and he’d be back where he was when the Westmont fired him. And he had nothing with which to bargain. He couldn’t threaten to implicate Pope without implicating himself. Besides, the police would only have his word that Senior was involved.

  When he could put it off no longer, Rose got out of the car and walked to the front door.

  “What does he want?” Rose asked Derrick Barclay as Pope’s lackey led him to the back of the house.

  “You’ll have to ask Mr. Pope.”

  The first thing Rose noticed when Barclay opened the door to the den was that the heavy curtains were drawn and the only light came from the low-wattage bulb in Senior’s desk lamp, leaving Pope’s features cloaked in shadow.

  “Come in,” Pope ordered from his seat behind his desk. Tony had taken a few steps into the room when he heard the door close behind him. He started to turn but his feet tangled in the drop cloth that Barclay had spread over the floor at Pope’s request. Tony looked down and realized that every square inch of the beautiful hardwood flooring was covered.

  “You killed my boy,” Pope said.

  Rose’s head jerked up. “No, Mr. Pope. You can’t believe what that lawyer said. She was just trying to prejudice the judge. That was nonsense. Why would I hurt Junior?”

  “As soon as she said it I knew it was the truth. I sent those photographs to Junior so he’d show some spine and get rid of that bitch, but she couldn’t have planned to kill Arnie, because she didn’t know he was coming to the Westmont. And my investigators told me that Marsh is a coward. But the gun was found where he was standing and he’d been fighting with Junior and he ran away. All these years I was certain that Marsh killed Arnie. Now I know I was wrong.”

  “It wasn’t me. I swear it wasn’t me.”

  “Were you in the crowd like Jaffe said?”

  “That’s true.”

  “Then why did you lie to Jaffe’s investigator and say you were at your car?”

  Rose broke out in a sweat. “I didn’t want her to know I was anywhere near Arnie.”

  “Did you think you were the only witness Jaffe would have interviewed? Didn’t it dawn on you that someone else could have seen you?”

  “I was under a lot of stress when Jaffe’s investigator talked to me. That was the day before Marsh returned to Oregon. I was thinking about the best way to take care of him, just like you wanted. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Is that your excuse for shooting my boy?”

  “I didn’t. I saw Epps fighting and I saw him kick that guard. If he had that gun it must have dropped out earlier, because I never saw a gun come out of his waistband and I never saw a gun on the ground near where Epps was fighting. You have to believe me.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Pope said. “And even if I did, you’re the only person who can link me to Sally’s murder and the attempts on Marsh.”

  Suddenly, Tony realized that the drop cloth was covering the floor so his blood wouldn’t stain Pope’s precious hardwood. That flash of insight occurred simultaneously with the flash from the muzzle of the gun Derrick Barclay had aimed at his brain while Senior was distracting him.

  “Get rid of his car and get this garbage out of my sight, Derrick,” Pope said without a trace of emotion.

  DERRICK BARCLAY WAS much stronger than he looked but it was still a strain to drag the drop cloth-wrapped corpse through the house and out the back door where an old Cadillac was waiting. He was sweating profusely by the time Rose was loaded into the trunk and he took several deep breaths before getting into the driver’s seat.

  A timber baron had a terrific advantage in a situation like this. Pope owned vast acres of forest land where a corpse could be buried with little chance of discovery. There had been other occasions when Barclay had disposed of unwanted items like Tony Rose, and he had found a lovely spot in the middle of an old-growth forest for the dearly departed. If there was life after death, Barclay hoped that Mr. Pope’s victims appreciated his choice of a final resting place.

  As soon as he had taken care of Rose, Barclay planned to use the dead man’s credit card to buy a one-way ticket to Germany. Then he would leave Rose’s car in the long-term parking lot at the Portland airport and take public transportation into town. With luck, the police would think that Rose had panicked and fled the country.

  Two hours after leaving Washington County, Barclay turned off a two-lane state highway onto a dirt logging road that had not been used for many years. Twenty minutes later, he stopped the car near a narrow trail that would be invisible to someone who didn’t know it existed. Barclay walked around to the trunk. He flexed his knees, took hold of the body through the drop cloth, and hauled Rose out of the car. Then he hoisted the corpse over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, grabbed the shovel he’d leaned against the side of the car, and tramped into the woods.

  Barclay
had walked a short way when he heard a rustling in the underbrush. Rose’s dead weight hurt his shoulders and legs but he paused to listen for any indication that someone was stalking him. When he didn’t hear anything, he decided an animal had caused the sound. Shortly before he reached his destination, Barclay thought he heard a twig snap. Was someone following him? No, that was impossible. He would have seen a car on the sparsely traveled country roads. His shoulders ached and he hurried the rest of the way so he could unload his burden. As soon as the body was on the ground, he flexed his back and shoulders. Then he paused to listen again, still spooked by the sounds he thought he’d heard. Except for the wind and the leaves it rustled, all was quiet.

  Digging a grave was hard work and it required focus. That’s why Barclay didn’t hear Quentin Randolph and his partner, Nathan Rask, until they were almost on him. The sheriff’s deputies were responding to a 911 call relayed to them by their dispatcher. The caller had a funny accent but he had given very specific directions to a site where he claimed a man was burying a body. Quentin thought the report might be a prank, but it was a quiet evening and checking out the call gave him something to do.

  CHAPTER 47

  Wanda Simmons, the acting district attorney for Washington County, was a severe-looking career prosecutor with frizzy red hair and a perpetually harried expression. Simmons, who had no life away from her cases, always wore identical rumpled navy blue skirts and jackets over identical wrinkled white blouses. Amanda suspected that Simmons put up with the time it took to get dressed only because she wouldn’t be allowed in court if she was naked.

  “Who wants to tell me why we’re having this secret meeting?” Marshall Berkowitz asked as he looked back and forth between Simmons and Amanda.

  “I’m going to dismiss the case against Mr. Marsh,” the DA told the judge. “Neither party wanted a media circus.”

  Berkowitz raised his eyebrows in surprise as Amanda nodded her assent. Charlie Marsh, whom Amanda had ordered to speak only when she told him to, sat quietly at his lawyer’s side.