[Lady Justice 22] - Lady Justice and the Conspiracy Trial

by Robert Thornhill

  “Two hours! Isn’t that what you asked for?”

  Marshall was getting exasperated.

  “During that two hours are you expected to offer your client sexual favors?”

  Ms. Abadondo was shocked. “My goodness no! That would be illegal!”

  “Melina, you’re under oath. You swore to tell the truth.”

  “I did tell the truth,” she replied indignantly. “It is illegal to take money for sex.”

  Marshall must have figured he was beating a dead horse.

  “No further questions.”

  When Suzanne declined to cross, the judge banged his gavel. “Court adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow.”

  It wasn’t good, but the first day hadn’t been a total loss.

  CHAPTER 13

  After the long day in court, I was beat. Since all I had done was sit on my butt all day, I wasn’t physically tired, but the emotional strain of the trial had drained me.

  Once again, Dad and I pulled up in front of our building at the same time.

  “Hey, Sonny! I got it!” he called out cheerfully.

  “Got what, Dad?”

  “The Teamster’s Hall --- for the big wing-ding --- you know --- the bachelor party that I’m doing because you’re too busy.”

  “Oh, right. Exactly what do you have planned for the big event?” I was curious because sometimes Dad’s ideas were suspect.

  “Just the usual,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. “That ex-cop friend of yours is catering with his bar-b-cue, and one of Jerry’s friends is going to DJ.”

  “That’s it? Nothing wild and wooly?”

  “Why would you even ask that?” he replied in mock surprise.

  “Because I know you, that’s why.”

  Then I noticed a new sticker on the bumper of his car. In bold letters it proclaimed, “This vehicle protected by Smith & Wesson.”

  “Dad, that sticker ---.”

  “It’s a dandy, isn’t it? I got it at the gun store where I bought my 9mm. Nobody will mess with my car now.”

  “Actually, Dad, just the opposite is true. Think about it. All that sticker does is announce the fact that the person who owns that car is a gun owner. If some mope sees it, and nobody’s around, he’s likely to bust out a window thinking there might be a gun under the seat or in the glove box. Ox and I had calls like that all the time.”

  That took the wind out of his sails. “Well crap! I hadn’t thought about that.”

  I headed into the building leaving Dad rubbing his chin and staring at the sticker.

  When I entered our apartment, I found Maggie, Veronica and Judy sitting around the table chatting and looking at magazines.

  “What’s all this,” I inquired, noticing right away that there wasn’t a hint of my supper lingering in the air.

  “A meeting of Wedding Planners Anonymous,” Maggie replied, throwing me a kiss. “We’ve been at it all afternoon. Still have a long way to go though.”

  That was a gentle clue that I was probably on my own for supper.

  “Judy, what’s Ox doing tonight?”

  “Probably just moping around the house. Why don’t you give him a call? Maybe the two of you can go do something.”

  Another gentle clue that my presence wasn’t needed at Wedding Planners Anonymous.

  Actually, it wasn’t a bad idea. On the way home, I had been thinking about the trial. If we were going to use the hired assassin scenario, we needed more evidence, and I had thought of something I should check out, but to do it, I would need Ox.

  “Good idea,” I replied. Then, seeing Veronica reminded me of Melina Abadondo. “Veronica, since you used to be in the business, what do you know about Elite Escorts?”

  “Elite, sure I know something about them. All the working girls do. It’s a high class operation, big bucks, but it’s run by the mob. Girls can make a lot of money, but the downside is that once you go to work for them, they own you. I knew one of the girls. She let me look at her little black book. It read like a who’s who in Kansas City, politicians, CEO’s, even clergy. Another downside is that you’re expected to take care of the owner’s needs, if you know what I mean, and from what I hear, Carmine can be pretty kinky.”

  That certainly made sense. Every time I met with Carmine, he had a gorgeous woman on each arm. One of the perks of being the godfather.

  I called Ox and headed out the door. “I’m leaving.”

  To be fair, Maggie did reply, “Be safe. I love you,” but her head, along with the other two girls, was glued to Modern Bride.

  On the way to my car, I noticed that Dad was on his knees busily scraping Smith & Wesson off his bumper.

  I heard him mumble, “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  I picked Ox up and we headed to Denny’s. I would have preferred Mel’s, but Denny’s is Ox’s favorite and I needed a favor from him.

  While we were waiting for our Grand Slams to be served, I ran my idea by Ox.

  “You know, once Jack realized he was in danger and being pursued, he must have abandoned everything that could lead the assassins to him, his car, his apartment, credit cards, cell phone, everything. That’s what I would have done.”

  “Makes sense,” Ox replied. “The government has ways of tracking us we can’t even comprehend.”

  “Since we know the feds caught up with him, it was most likely either in his car or where he was staying, probably a motel.”

  “Okay, so?”

  “So let’s go to the precinct and check out disturbance calls at motels around the time of Jack’s disappearance.”

  Ox grimaced. “I don’t know. The brass want Marchetti real bad. If they find out I’m helping you get him off, my butt’s in a sling.”

  “Come on! We both know Marchetti didn’t do this. I don’t like the guy either, but we can’t let those government thugs get away with four murders.”

  He sighed. “Okay, but if I get my ass fired, you have to hire me at Walt Williams Investigations.”

  “It’s a deal!”

  Thankfully, there were few people roaming around the precinct at that late hour.

  Ox booted up the computer and after pouring through fifteen minutes of disturbance calls, he said, “I might have something. The Royale Inn, Independence Avenue and Paseo.”

  I remembered the place. It was a real dump and a crime magnet.

  Ox continued, “Says here that a woman from the cleaning crew found the door of a unit bashed in. Apparently the tenant left nothing behind. The room was clean.”

  “Does it give the tenant’s name?”

  Ox scrolled further. “Yeah, it was registered to a Fred Fenton. That name sounds familiar.”

  “Of course it’s familiar,” I exclaimed. “That was the name Kevin used when he lived in Phoenix! That’s Jack for sure. I remember him talking to Kevin, getting some back story for his article since Kevin was involved in our investigation. He used that name to let us know where he was hiding.”

  “Pretty clever!” Ox observed.

  Then it hit me. “Not really. Kevin used that name when he was in witness protection. The US Marshall’s gave it to him. The Feds had access to that information. That’s how they found him.”

  “Holy crap! There’s no hiding from those guys.”

  “I don’t suppose there were security cameras?”

  “At the Royale Inn? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Maybe not at the motel, but Independence and Paseo is a major intersection. Let’s check the traffic cameras for the night of the break-in.”

  Ox pulled up another screen.

  Fortunately, the camera’s angle was wide enough to catch the entrance to the motel off Paseo. We started the morning before the break-in and fast-forwarded through the day.

  “There! Back it up.”

  A new model black SUV was seen pulling into the hotel lot. Twenty minutes later, it left. It was too far away to get a license number or see the faces of its occupants.

  “That�
��s gotta be the feds,” Ox said. “Nobody driving a rig like that would be caught dead in the Royale Inn.” Then he thought about what he just said. “Sorry, not the best choice of words.”

  We knew without a doubt what we had, but it couldn’t be used in court. There was no way to prove that Fred Fenton was really Jack Carson, and anybody could have been driving the SUV.

  I was back to square one.

  CHAPTER 14

  We were on our way back to Ox’s apartment when my cell phone rang.

  “Walt, Suzanne here. Can you come by my office? It’s important.”

  I looked at my watch and figured the girls would still be immersed in bridal stuff.

  “Sure. Ox is with me. Is that okay?”

  “Actually, that’s perfect.”

  Twenty minutes later we were sitting in Suzanne’s office being introduced to a middle-aged Latino woman.

  “Walt, Ox,” Suzanne said, “This is Maria Lopez. Maria is --- uhhh --- a working girl, and she has some very important information for us.”

  Once she said that, I recognized the tell-tale signs. It was obvious Maria had once been a beautiful young girl, but life on the street, and most likely drugs, had aged her beyond her years. Her eyes were dark and sunken and had that faraway look of a person wishing she could be anyone and anyplace else.

  Suzanne continued. “Maria was with a customer at the Royale Inn the day Jack Carson disappeared. Maria, why don’t you tell Walt and Ox what you told me. They’re friends. It’s okay.”

  “I --- I work Independence Avenue,” she started in a halting voice. “I keep a room at the Royale Inn. On that day, I had just finished with a customer and we were about to leave when we heard the door of the room next to us bashed in. We were afraid, so we just waited to see what would happen next. Maybe ten minutes later, two men came out of the room pushing Jack in front of them. They took him to a black SUV where they were joined by two other men who must have been behind the building. A few minutes later, they drove off.”

  “I noticed you called Mr. Carson, Jack. It sounds like you know him.”

  “I do. Jack was a crime reporter for the paper. One night, a customer got really rough and I hit him on the head with a beer bottle. Somebody called the cops. Jack must have heard it on his scanner because he showed up about the same time. They sent both of us to the hospital and just left us there. Jack followed, and after we were treated, he offered to drive me home. I was a real mess. He wasn’t a jerk like most guys are with hookers. He was kind. I never forgot that.”

  “So why did you wait to come forward?” Ox asked. “Why now?”

  “Because I saw that Carmine Marchetti is being tried for his murder. Carmine didn’t do it. I’ve been on the street long enough to know most of Marchetti’s goons, and the men who took Jack did not work for him. I don’t like Marchetti. He’s a pig, but if they convict him, the men that are really responsible for Jack’s death will get away.”

  “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying all along,” I replied. “Would you recognize the men if you saw them again?”

  “The two that took him for sure. They passed right in front of our window. They were both white, middle-aged, well-dressed and very fit.” She thought for a moment. “One of them had a scar on his cheek here,” she said, running her finger from the bridge of her nose to her jaw.

  “Let me show you something,” I said, pulling out my cell phone. “Ox and I ran the traffic cam footage for the day Jack was taken and found this SUV leaving the Royale Inn parking lot. Is this the SUV you saw?”

  “Yes, I’m sure it is.”

  “Would you be willing to testify to that in court?” Suzanne asked.

  She thought for a moment, then nodded. “I would. I owe it to Jack.”

  “Fantastic!” I exclaimed. “Without corroboration, that SUV could have been anybody, but with your testimony, the jury can’t ignore the possibility that someone else killed Jack. Reasonable doubt.”

  “Maria,” Suzanne said. “The prosecution will be finished tomorrow and we’ll begin our defense on Monday. That’s when I’ll need you in court. Would you like someone to pick you up?”

  “Not necessary,” she replied. “It’s not like I’ve never been to court before, except this time I won’t be the defendant.”

  Suzanne turned to me. “I’ll get Maria’s name on the witness list, and Walt, you’d better get some rest. You’ll be on the stand tomorrow and Grant Marshall will be going for the jugular.”

  “Thanks, I’m sure I’ll sleep well with that in mind.”

  Sure enough, I was the first person called to the witness stand.

  After the preliminaries, establishing my five years as a cop and my current position as a private investigator, Marshall jumped right in.

  “Mr. Williams, on the morning of January 12th, did you visit the office of Detective Derek Blaylock?”

  “I did.”

  “And what was the purpose of that visit?”

  “I had been working with Jack Carson on a case and he went missing. I was told by Missing Persons that I should talk to Detective Blaylock.”

  “What did the detective tell you?”

  “He said if Jack was missing, Carmine Marchetti was the logical suspect. He said Jack had been investigating some of his business dealings and Jack had been having an affair with Marchetti’s daughter.”

  “Business dealings? Come on, Mr. Williams. Wasn’t Jack Carson digging into Marchetti’s protection racket in the northeast neighborhood?”

  “I suppose.”

  “After your conversation with Detective Blaylock, did you confront Mr. Marchetti at his office later that day?”

  “I did, and he categorically denied having anything to do with Carson’s disappearance.”

  “And you believed him? He certainly had the motive.”

  “He was very convincing, plus, I was pursuing another lead as to his disappearance.”

  I was hoping Marshall would quiz me about my other lead, but he was too sharp to fall into that trap. He totally ignored my comment and continued.

  “A few days later, you had a second confrontation with Mr. Marchetti. What was that all about?”

  “Someone had abducted my wife, Maggie. I was trying to find her.”

  “And you suspected Mr. Marchetti had taken your wife?”

  “The thought crossed my mind, but I was mistaken. She had actually been abducted by Angel Alvarez, a Columbian drug dealer.”

  “Why did Alvarez abduct your wife?”

  “Because she had a computer that Hector Ramirez left in a house Maggie listed. He wanted to trade Maggie for the computer.”

  “What was on this computer?”

  “The names, contacts and details of the Columbians drug operation in Kansas City.”

  Marshall looked at a sheet of paper. “According to the police report, the exchange of the computer for your wife went badly. It seems you were both about to be abducted when Carmine Marchetti’s men intervened and possibly saved your lives. Is that correct?”

  “It is.”

  “My, my, you and Mr. Marchetti must have become best buds for him to come to your rescue like that. Oh, wait. Maybe it wasn’t an act of altruism at all. With the information on that computer, wasn’t the drug task force able to pretty much shut down the Columbian drug trade in Kansas City?”

  “That’s what I understood.”

  “And with the Columbians out of the way, that certainly left a void in the Kansas City drug market that Mr. Marchetti’s organization was able to step in and fill.”

  Suzanne sprang to her feet. “Objection! Facts not in evidence.”

  “Withdrawn!” Marshall replied, smiling. “No further questions of this witness.”

  Grant Marshall had used my testimony to not only solidify Marchetti’s motive for killing Carson, but to also add drugs to his resume which already included protection, gambling and prostitution. Carmine wasn’t coming across as a very nice guy, but like the old saying goes, “Yo
u can’t put a flower in an asshole and call it a vase.”

  Suzanne and I had discussed the possibility of her getting into the hired assassin theory on cross examination, but decided to wait until she was presenting her defense.

  Marshall’s next witness was Carmine’s daughter, Calinda.

  “Ms. Marchetti, may I call you Calinda?”

  “Sure. I guess.”

  “Calinda, how did you first come in contact with Jack Carson?”

  “Daddy owns twelve apartment buildings around the city. I’m his property manager. I take care of all of his rental units. One day, Jack came by my office at the Bel-Air Apartments and told me he was doing a story on my father and would like to interview me.”

  “Were you aware that his story was actually an exposé of your father’s protection racket?”

  “First of all, I don’t even know what that is. The only thing I have to do with Daddy’s business is manage his apartment buildings. I have an MBA from Baker University and I take my job very seriously. You or anyone else can audit my books any time you want. I have nothing to hide.”

  “I’m sure you don’t, but surely you’re not asking us to believe that you know nothing about your father’s illegal activities.”

  “You can believe what you want. I know what people say, but Daddy never let me get involved in anything illegal.”

  “So what happened with Jack?”

  “He realized right away that I had nothing to add to his story, but during that first visit, something just clicked. We enjoyed each other’s company and began seeing each other on a regular basis.”

  “Your father wasn’t aware of those first visits, was he?”

  “No, I knew Jack was snooping around Daddy’s business, so I didn’t say anything. No need to upset him if things didn’t work out.”

  “But they did work out, didn’t they?”

  “Yes, very much so. One of Daddy’s people saw Jack and me at a restaurant. He confronted me and I told him everything.”

  “He must have been upset.”

  “He was at first. In fact, he asked me not to see him anymore, but when I told him how much I cared for Jack, he gave in.”