The Genesis Files

by Gwen Richardson

  “Please write down the name of the prisoner you are here to see on this form,” the guard told Lloyd when he got to the front counter.

  “I’m here to see Earl Allen Griffin, sir.”

  “The gas grill killer? His attorney is with him now, so you’ll have to wait. Are you a family member?”

  “No, sir. I’m a reporter for the Ledger.”

  “Normally attorneys don’t allow their clients to talk to reporters. You’ll have to wait until he comes out and get his permission.”

  The guard did a double take. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you that reporter who solved the River Oaks kidnapping?”

  “You got ‘em, that’s me, Lloyd Palmer. How long do you think the attorney will be?”

  The guard completely ignored his question, instead announcing Lloyd’s presence to the other guards. “Hey, y’all. This is Lloyd Palmer, the reporter who found out that lady killed her own baby.”

  The guards all gave Lloyd a round of applause, as the one he had been talking to turned toward him. “Man, thanks for getting the police off our backs. They were locking up brothers left and right.” The guard shook Lloyd’s hand vigorously.

  “You’re welcome. It’s part of my job,” responded Lloyd, something he was really starting to believe himself. The impact of him following his hunch was starting to sink in.

  “My name is Melvin, sir. Melvin Banks. If there’s anything I can do for you, Mr. Palmer, just say the word.”

  “Actually, there is something you can do. Do you have any idea how much longer it will be before Griffin’s attorney comes out?”

  “Let me check and see his arrival time,” said Melvin, as he scanned the sign-in log.

  “He got here at two o’clock, about an hour ago. He shouldn’t be that much longer. You can wait here until he comes out. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine. I’ll just wait here. It’s important that I speak with him today,” Lloyd said as he sat down on the bench in the waiting area. “Can you tell me the attorney’s name?”

  Melvin surveyed the sign-in sheet again. “His name is David Rosenfeld, sir.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Lloyd hadn’t been to a lot of jails when covering stories because he focused primarily on the crime scenes, the victims and their families. But now he’d been to jails twice within a few days—once to get his friend Ron out and now to try to get this interview. He’d have to be very convincing to persuade Rosenfeld to allow Griffin to talk.

  While Lloyd waited, he sat and watched the people coming and going through the visitation line. They were mostly women, presumably girlfriends or wives of the inmates; some had children with them. From the way they were dressed, most were relatively poor.

  The way the criminal justice system worked, the side on which the scales of justice tilted was directly related to one’s ability to obtain adequate legal representation. Those on the lower rungs of the economic ladder didn’t have the means to get competent lawyers. Most depended on court appointed attorneys who were too busy or incompetent to adequately represent their clients.

  Lloyd knew that a few wrong choices in high school might have landed him behind bars rather than on the path to college and a career. He shook his head and buried his face in his hands as he thought about what could have been.

  Lloyd felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Melvin.

  “Mr. Palmer, Mr. Rosenfeld is coming out now,” Melvin said, as he nodded toward a man with a navy blue pinstriped suit and red silk necktie.

  Lloyd stood and approached him. “Mr. Rosenfeld, I’m Lloyd Palmer with the Ledger. Can I speak with you for a moment?”

  “If it’s about interviewing my client, then you’re wasting your time,” he said, as he signed the log indicating his departure time.

  “Please, Mr. Rosenfeld. Just hear me out.”

  The attorney frowned. “Okay, Mr. Palmer. Let’s sit over here,” pointing in the direction of a bench that was furthest away from the gathering crowd of visitors.

  As they sat down, Rosenfeld said, “By the way, Mr. Palmer, good work on the kidnapping case. You really kept the city from getting a black eye on that one, pun intended.”

  Lloyd was beginning to like the attention he was getting. “You really should thank my mother. I was planning on leaving it alone and doing routine reporting. She convinced me to follow my hunch.”

  “You can thank her from all of us in the city, really. Now how can I help you?”

  “I’d like to interview Mr. Griffin,” Lloyd said and held up his hand. “Now before you say no, hear me out. I know that a news report before the trial could be incriminating for your client and might even be against legal ethics.”

  “You’re damned right it would be. I’m not going to risk getting sanctioned by the Bar Association. Maybe even disbarred.”

  “Mr. Rosenfeld, there wouldn’t be any risk to you or your client. Here’s what I’m proposing. Let me do an exclusive interview. Earl can tell his side of what happened. I’ll record the interview, but I won’t publish the story until after the trial is over.”

  “Mr. Palmer, I don’t think you’d be able to sit on a story of this magnitude for that long. What if your editor forces you to run the story? Then my client will be screwed, along with my legal career.

  “I’ve dealt with you reporters before,” Rosenfeld added. “I don’t trust any of you as far as I can throw you. Why not wait until after the trial to conduct the interview?”

  “Call me Lloyd, please. Mr. Rosenfeld, I know you have a right to be skeptical, but I give you my solemn word that I won’t even replay the recording until after the trial is over. I’d rather conduct the interview now while the details are fresh in Griffin’s mind. Months from now, some of it will be forgotten.”

  “Okay, Lloyd. Let’s say I believe you. But you do have a boss. What if your editor forces the issue?”

  Lloyd pondered the question for a few seconds. He could feel Rosenfeld’s resolve weakening. There had to be a way to close the deal once and for all. Hamisi had told him to protect the truth at all costs. Lloyd had been trained to view the truth as something that should be exposed, not protected. Sometimes he wished Hamisi wouldn’t speak in riddles; it was all so confounding. Then he had an idea.

  “Here’s what we’ll do. Once I tape the interview with Earl, I’ll put the flash drive in a safe deposit box and leave it there until the trial is over. I will explain your terms to my editor and get him to understand the reasons behind it. He probably won’t like it; but he won’t have access to the key, and I’ll keep the information between us.

  “As a reporter, I have the constitutional right to protect my sources. I would go to jail for contempt of court before I would give up the location of the tape. Will you agree to do it now?”

  Rosenfeld paused. He had taken Griffin’s case pro bono, primarily to get the publicity so he could obtain future criminal clients. An exclusive spread in the Ledger after the trial ended would do him no harm and give him star power in his profession. He’d always wanted to join the ranks of America’s famous defense lawyers, like Richard “Racehorse” Haynes, Mark Geragos and Johnnie Cochran. This could be his chance.

  “Okay, Lloyd. I’m trusting that you’ll keep your word. I’ve seen you handle yourself over the past few days, and I’ve been impressed by your integrity.”

  They shook hands. “Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to Earl.”

  311

  Gwen Richardson

  CHAPTER 30

  Melvin pressed the button that buzzed Lloyd and Rosenfeld entry into the lockup facility. Lloyd had never been inside a jail before and started to get claustrophobic as he walked down the main corridor. There was an area inside where inmates could meet with their lawyers. A second guard ushered them into the meeting area.

  “Sit here and wait,” said the guard. “I’ll bring Griffin to you in a few minutes.”

  While they waited, Lloyd thought it would be a good idea to get
some background on Griffin from Rosenfeld in advance of the interview. “Do you think Griffin will cooperate?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” replied Rosenfeld. “He’s no fool. He’s fairly well educated, so he’ll know that any statements he makes can be used by the prosecution to bolster their case. You’ll need to convince him that the interview could be in his best interest.”

  “Fair enough,” Lloyd responded.

  The door then opened, and the guard escorted Griffin into the room. He was of average height and wore the orange jumpsuit worn by all of the inmates. His ankles were shackled, and his wrists were handcuffed.

  “Mr. Rosenfeld, I thought you were gone,” said Griffin, who then noticed Lloyd at the table. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Lloyd Palmer, a reporter for the Houston Ledger.”

  “A reporter? Why in the hell would I want to talk to a reporter? Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “Of course not, Earl. Lloyd has a proposition for you and I think you should hear him out.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “Just listen to what he has to say and then make your decision. Okay?”

  Earl’s placed his handcuffed hands on the table. He looked at Lloyd as if sizing him up. Earl thought his face looked familiar, but he couldn’t figure out how he knew him. He doubted they had met face-to-face, but Earl knew he’d seen him somewhere before.

  “What’s up?” Griffin asked, nodding at Lloyd in recognition. “What are you selling?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Lloyd.

  “Everybody who wants to see me is selling something. You didn’t come here because we’re long lost friends, man, so what’s up?”

  “Do you know anything about the Pauley kidnapping?”

  “Who doesn’t? Some of the guys who were falsely arrested were in here on the cell block. They ought to bring that River Oaks broad in here with the rest of us brothers, and we’ll show her what a bad guy really looks like. We’ll make her feel right at home,” he said as he smirked.

  “This isn’t about Mrs. Pauley, Earl. I asked you about it because I’m the reporter who broke the story.”

  “What? Are you thinking you can break this case wide open too? Man, the cops have already got the goods on me. Mr. Rosenfeld is working on a plea bargain so I won’t get the needle.”

  “When it’s all said and done, Earl, wouldn’t you like to tell your side of the story?”

  Earl was insistent. “Not until I get that plea bargain done.”

  “This is what I’d like to do, if you’ll agree.” Lloyd waited before proceeding so he would have Earl’s full attention.

  “I’d like to record your account of what happened between you and Keisha. I don’t think you really meant to kill her. You just got angry and things got out of control, am I right?”

  “I’m not going to admit anything just yet.”

  “Here’s the deal, Earl. Once we finish the interview, the flash drive will be put in my safe deposit box. Mr. Rosenfeld will go with me to the bank and watch me put the flash drive in the box. I’ll give him the key, so I won’t have access to it on my own.”

  “What’s to keep him from selling it to some other reporter? I don’t trust lawyers or reporters. They’re both scum, no more than a necessary evil. No offense.”

  “None taken. Rosenfeld won’t be able to examine the contents of the box because it’ll be in my name. I’ll have to show my photo I.D., and they’ll check my signature before they let me into the safety deposit box viewing area. But without the key, I won’t be able to open the box. In other words, to retrieve the flash drive, both of us have to be present.

  Lloyd continued. “There’s something else you might want to consider.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Once the interview is published, there may be some interest from one of the major New York publishers offering you a book deal. You won’t be able to benefit financially from your crime because of federal statute, but you could put the advance and royalties in a trust for a loved one, your mother perhaps.”

  Earl sat back in his chair, obviously thinking through the presentation Lloyd had just laid out. With that kind of set up, he thought, it just might work. Besides, he’d never been able to take care of his mama like he wanted to. A book deal would give her the security she needed to live her senior years in comfort, security she’d never had during her thirty years as a Metrobus dispatcher.

  He was probably going to be behind bars for the rest of his life, so he might as well get something out of it. He looked at Lloyd.

  “The only reason I’m even considering this is because of what you did for the city. You seem like a trustworthy guy. You guarantee that the interview won’t run in your paper, or any other paper, until after a verdict has been rendered and I’ve been sentenced?”

  “Yes, I guarantee it. I’ll have to tell my editor that I got the interview recorded, but that you had this stipulation that we must honor. He’ll have no choice but to go along.”

  “What if he forces you, tells you that you’re fired if you don’t give him the flash drive?”

  “He’ll be mad but, trust me, he won’t fire me,” said Lloyd, knowing that his clout at the Ledger had increased ten-fold in the last few days. “I’m too important to the paper right now. Besides, if he does fire me, I’ve got offers lined up from coast to coast from papers and magazines with larger circulations than the Ledger. I’ll get it published one way or another.”

  Earl face broke out in a huge grin. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

  311

  Gwen Richardson

  CHAPTER 31

  Lloyd and Rosenfeld asked for permission to go out to Lloyd’s car and then return to the facility. Although it was against regulations, Melvin made an exception and kept them both signed in on the visitors’ roster. When they got to Lloyd’s car, he retrieved his digital voice recorder out of the trunk and handed it to Rosenfeld, who put it in his briefcase. Attorneys were afforded wide latitude for bringing items into the facility when visiting their clients, so Rosenfeld could take a recording device inside whereas Lloyd could not.

  When they returned to the private meeting area, Lloyd, Rosenfeld and Earl sat around the table. Rosenfeld placed the device in the center of the table and pressed record.

  “Okay, Earl,” said Lloyd, “why don’t you tell me how you first met Keisha? How did the two of you hook up?”

  “She was doing work study in one of the university offices. I was a salesman for one of the major phone providers, and I went to the office to see if I could get the university to switch phone services. I was trying to sign them up as a new client.”

  “I thought Keisha was cute, so I struck up a conversation. We talked for a few minutes, and I asked for her digits. She gave them to me right away.”

  Lloyd wanted to question Earl about the difference in their ages—the two of them were fifteen years apart. “She was quite a bit younger than you. Did you have any reservations about talking to her?”

  “Nah, man. I like ‘em young. These young girls will believe anything you tell ‘em. Plus they usually don’t have much experience sexually and you can really turn them out.”

  Lloyd decided to move on from that topic of discussion. “Okay, so you got her phone number and then what?”

  “I waited a couple of days, and then I called her. I asked her to go out to lunch with me, and we hooked up the next day. I could tell she was feelin’ me and I was laying the flattery on thick—complimenting her eyes and her smile. I told her I’d pick her up that Friday night and we’d go somewhere. She never asked any questions.”

  “So you got together that Friday and how did things progress? How did she end up moving in with you?”

  “That Friday, I picked her up and took her to my place. I cooked us dinner, and I poured her a glass of wine. She said she didn’t drink much, and I could tell she was getting relaxed. She kept drinking and I kept pouring. Pretty soon she was really buzzed.


  “I kissed her, and she laid down and relaxed on the sofa. I kept kissing her and started taking off her clothes slowly. She didn’t put up any resistance. And then I was inside her —tight and wet, man, tight and wet.”

  Lloyd didn’t want to let Earl go too far down the road of sexual details. He didn’t want Earl to be climbing the walls with sexual fantasies dominating his thoughts after they left. He was simply trying to get Earl comfortable talking about his relationship with Keisha. Lloyd would have to steer him back to the days leading up to the murder.

  “So, after that you two started seeing each other regularly?”

  “Yeah, man, we started kickin’ it every day. I could tell she was falling for me, hard. I didn’t have another lady at the time, so it was cool. When her mom found out about us, she wasn’t too happy. Keisha was living in an apartment near the campus with two roommates, so her moms didn’t know how much time we were spending together. After a couple of months, I asked her to move in with me and she did.”

  “How long did you two live together? Were things working out between you?”

  “We lived together for about six months. At first, things were going pretty good. Keisha was in her classes during the day, and she would do a lot of the cooking and cleaning in the evenings. I had it made. She was always trying to make sure I was taken care of.

  “But then she started being too clingy. Wanting to know my every move. She started calling me five or six times a day when I was at work. She was really getting on my nerves—nagging me. One thing I cannot stand is a bitch who nags.

  “Then she started skipping class and following me. She suspected that I was cheating on her, seeing another woman behind her back. I wasn’t; I just liked flirting with different females I encountered—hell, that’s how I met her.

  “On the day it happened, I came home from work and she lit into me, confronting me about some chick she saw me talking to earlier that day.”

  Lloyd interrupted him. “When you say ‘on the day it happened,’ you’re talking about the murder, right?”