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

by Robert Thornhill

  “John, my ass!” I muttered. “Somehow the government goons found out she was going to testify, whacked her, and made it look like just another dead hooker. But how would they have known?”

  “I guess that’s on me,” Suzanne replied. “I had to include her name on my witness list I turned over to the prosecution. They could have gotten the information from there.”

  “That’s five.” I said.

  “Five what?”

  “Five people murdered to keep the government’s dirty little secret.”

  Carmine spoke for the first time. “They got my ass in a sling, don’t they?”

  Suzanne slumped in her chair. “It doesn’t look good, Carmine. Not good at all.”

  CHAPTER 18

  With Maria Lopez dead, our best shot at getting Carmine off the hook and laying the blame at the feet of government assassins was down the tubes.

  We were just sitting there in a stupor, when I happened to notice the corner of a manila envelope sticking out of Calinda’s bag. It could have been any old envelope, maybe an invitation to lower her insurance rates at Geico, but it got my attention.

  “Calinda, that envelope in your bag. May I see it?”

  She was obviously apprehensive. “I --- I don’t think so. It’s personal.”

  I could read between the lines. “It’s from Jack, isn’t it?”

  When she didn’t respond, Suzanne prodded, “Look, Calinda, we’re grasping for straws here. If you have something from Jack, it just might help.”

  Reluctantly, she handed me the envelope. It was identical to the one I had received, except it was addressed to her.

  I opened it and pulled out a single sheet of paper. The note read:

  My Dear Calinda,

  I’m so sorry I haven’t contacted you. My life is in danger and if I had called, yours would be too. I must leave town and disappear for a while. When I feel it is safe, I will be in touch. Until then, know that I love you. Jack

  Suzanne was the first to speak. “Calinda, why in the world didn’t you show me this earlier? It’s certainly evidence that Jack feared for his life.”

  “But it doesn’t say why he was afraid,” she replied. “I thought the prosecution could turn it around and say that Jack was afraid of what Daddy might do.”

  “So can we still use it?” Carmine asked, grasping for straws.

  “No,” Suzanne replied, “I’m afraid it’s too little, too late.”

  An idea had been forming in my mind. “Maybe not. If all of you can give me a half hour to run home and back, I think I might have something that will tip the scales our way.”

  “Anything,” they all replied, and I was on my way to retrieve the manila envelope from my safe.

  Thirty minutes later, I pulled the envelope from a grocery bag.

  “I received an envelope from Jack too,” I confessed, “but mine was certainly different from the one Calinda received. It contained every bit of evidence Jack collected on the chemtrail conspiracy.”

  I opened the envelope and poured the contents on the table. “Recorded interviews, photos, everything. Then there was this note.”

  If you’re reading this, it means they have found me. There are only two possible outcomes. I will make every effort to disappear and start a new life far away, but there is a very good chance I won’t make it out of town. Either way, I have done all that I can do. The contents of this envelope contain everything I have uncovered about the government’s chemtrail conspiracy. I hate laying this burden at your feet, but now it’s up to you to expose this horrendous program that is filling our skies with poison. Good luck! Jack Carson.

  After reading the note, Carmine frowned, “Hold on a minute! When you were on the stand, the prosecutor asked if you had any evidence supporting this chemtrail thing and you said no. This stuff could have got me off the hook. What gives?”

  “It’s pretty simple, Carmine. At the time I received this envelope, three people who had come forward with information about the chemtrails were dead and Jack was missing. The people responsible for those deaths knew I was poking around as well, and I received these texts.”

  I showed them the texts with the photos of Maggie at our apartment and at work with the messages, ‘Back off!’ and ‘Quit digging.’

  “I’m so sorry, but there was no way in the world I was going to risk my wife for you or anyone else. I hope you understand.”

  He thought for a moment. “Yeah, I get it. I woulda done the same thing. So why show them to us now?”

  “Because I have an idea how we can use the stuff to get you off without endangering anyone. Jack must have mailed the envelopes to me and Calinda at the same time, just before he was caught. No one knows about these envelopes but the people in this room. What if we take all the evidence and the note Jack wrote to me and put it in the envelope he sent to Calinda? Suzanne could present it into evidence tomorrow morning, saying Calinda had no idea what she had until she heard my testimony. Once the stuff is in the hands of the court, it will be public record and Calinda and I will be off the hook with the assassins.”

  Suzanne thought for a moment. “Walt, you realize you committed perjury and if we do what you are suggesting we’re all guilty of tampering with evidence.”

  “All I know is that this chemtrail conspiracy is real and the government is willing to do anything to keep it a deep dark secret --- including killing five people. It’s not like they’re playing by the rules either.”

  Suzanne thought for a moment. “Sometimes you have to give Lady Justice a helping hand. I’m in!”

  The next morning, I met Kevin on the courthouse steps.

  “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on a honeymoon somewhere?”

  “Plenty of time for that later. I was up to my neck in this case too. I just had to see how it turned out.”

  “You picked a good day,” I replied, knowing what was coming.

  Once the judge was seated, he turned to Grant Marshall. “Your closing statement Mr. Marshall.”

  Before he could reply, Suzanne rose, “Your Honor, before we begin closing statements, the defense has some additional evidence to present to the court.”

  Marshall was incensed. “Your Honor! The defense rested their case yesterday.”

  Judge Weathers turned to Suzanne. “This is highly irregular, Ms. Romero. Why was this evidence not presented yesterday and why should I allow it today?”

  “Two reasons, Your Honor. As I’m sure you’re aware, Maria Lopez was on our witness list and was prepared to testify that she had seen Jack Carson abducted. Ms. Lopez was killed yesterday, conveniently preventing her from sharing her testimony.”

  Marshall jumped to his feet again. “Objection! Maria Lopez was a prostitute and there was no evidence linking her death to these proceedings.”

  “That may be true, Mr. Marshall,” Suzanne replied. “At least there was no evidence the police have found, but the point is that her testimony was a vital part of Mr. Marchetti’s defense. A trial is all about arriving at the truth, and Mr. Marchetti deserves every chance to prove his innocence.”

  The judge thought a moment. “I’ll take that into consideration. You said there were two reasons. Please continue.”

  “The evidence we wish to present to the court is an envelope Jack Carson mailed to Calinda Marchetti before he was killed. It contains everything Mr. Carson collected during his investigation of the chemtrail conspiracy, photos, recordings, everything.”

  Marshall started to rise again, but the judge raised his hand. “Obviously Ms. Marchetti has had this material in her possession for some time. Why is she just bringing it forward now?”

  “Ms. Marchetti testified under oath that she knew nothing about Jack’s investigation into the government’s secret program. He purposely kept her in the dark for her own safety. Only after hearing Walt Williams’ testimony yesterday, did she understand the significance of what Jack Carson had mailed to her.”

  After considering her plea for a mo
ment, he ordered, “Counsel, approach the bench. Ms. Romero, let’s take a look at this evidence.”

  Suzanne joined Grant Marshall at the bench and handed the manila envelope to Judge Weathers.

  He opened the envelope spreading its contents on the bench. I watched him examine the photos and read the note Jack had written.

  After a few moments, he announced, “The court will be in recess to give me an opportunity to examine this evidence further. The bailiff will notify all parties when it’s time to reconvene. Court dismissed.”

  I had been watching the two men I had seen the day before. When the judge made his ruling, the one with the scar whispered to the other and they both made a bee line for the door, pushing people aside.

  “Holy crap!” Kevin muttered. “So Calinda had Jack’s stuff all the time. She was sitting on a powder keg and had no idea. If Carmine hadn’t been arrested, all that information Jack collected might never have seen the light of day.”

  “Funny how things work out,” I replied, smiling to myself.

  It was three in the afternoon when we were notified that court would be in session.

  When everyone was seated, a grim-faced judge turned to Grant Marshall. “I understand the prosecution has a motion to present to the court.”

  Marshall stood. “Yes, Your Honor, the prosecution moves to withdraw all charges against Carmine Marchetti in the death of Jack Carson.”

  Judge Weathers turned to the defense table. “Motion accepted. Mr. Marchetti, you are free to go.”

  And just like that, it was all over.

  Someone in government, and I would have given my left nut to know how high, had enough clout to order the motion to acquit to keep the evidence of the chemtrail conspiracy from coming to light.

  If there was ever doubt in anyone’s mind that the conspiracy was real, this would certainly erase that doubt.

  As soon as the judge banged his gavel, Carmine jumped to his feet and hugged Calinda, then Suzanne.

  Then he turned to me and took my hand. “Thanks, Walt. I said I needed a good private eye and you came through for me.” Then he patted me on the back. “That’s one you owe me off the books, but don’t forget, there’s still one left.”

  “What the hell was that all about?” Kevin asked.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime.”

  CHAPTER 19

  I was feeling pretty good as we left the courthouse. Kevin kept yapping about the quirky turn of events at the trial. I wanted to tell him how we’d pulled it off, but I knew the less people who knew the truth, the better.

  We were heading to the parking lot when I spotted Carmine and his brother, Frankie. My first thought was that they were heading to Antonelli’s for a celebratory drink, but then I caught a glimpse of something shiny pressed into Carmine’s back.

  I pointed them out to Kevin. “What’s that look like to you?”

  He stared for a moment. “It looks to me like the Marchettis are going to have a not-so-brotherly chat.”

  “Looks that way to me, too. I say we follow them.”

  “Are you carrying?” Kevin asked.

  Since no guns were allowed in the courthouse, I hadn’t bothered to pack any hardware. “Uhhh, no, I’m not.”

  “Figures,” he sighed. “Mine’s under the front seat of the car. I’ll drive.”

  Kevin idled in the lot until Frankie and Carmine were well under way. We followed them to I-29 North and soon they took the Front Street exit and headed northeast.

  “Bet a buck Frankie’s taking him to River Front Park,” Kevin said.

  Sure enough, Frankie turned left on Monroe to the park entrance.

  This time of year and at this time of day, the park was deserted.

  “If we follow him in, he’ll see us sure as shootin’,” Kevin said. “How would you feel about a little hike? I say we circle around and see what we can see.”

  “Works for me,” I replied.

  Kevin parked, retrieved his Glock from under the seat, and we headed across the grassy field, running from tree to tree for cover.

  We crossed over a little knoll and saw Carmine on his knees and Frankie had a gun to the back of his head.

  We inched closer on our bellies until we could hear bits and pieces of their conversation.

  “You don’t have to do this, Frankie,” Carmine pleaded. “We can work something out.”

  “Too late for that, Big Brother. As long as you’re alive I’ll always be a second banana. I thought for sure they’d put you away on this one, but somehow you wiggled out of it again. You’re one lucky son-of-a-bitch, but now your luck’s run out.”

  “But Frankie! I’m your brother. We’re blood!”

  “That may be, but you’ve had your time. Now it’s my turn to run the family business. If you got any last words, now’s the time.”

  When Carmine didn’t reply, Frankie pulled back the hammer of his revolver. “So long, Big Brother.”

  Kevin leaped to his feet. “Put the gun down, Frankie, or they’ll be two dead Marchettis bleeding out in River Front Park.”

  “What the hell! Who are you guys?”

  “Just a couple of concerned citizens,” I replied. “Now put down that gun before my friend here gets trigger happy.”

  As soon as Frankie dropped the gun, Carmine snatched it up.

  “Walt! You’re a sight for sore eyes. Looks like you got here just in time. Sorry you had to see that.”

  “Yeah, me too, but at least you’ll have witnesses to confirm your story this time.”

  “I don’t think so,” he replied.

  “What do you mean? We saw everything.”

  “Right, but no cops.”

  “But Carmine, he was going to bust a cap in the back of your head.”

  “Sure he was, but it don’t matter. If the cops come sniffin’ around, it will just open a whole can of worms. After what happened in court today, they’d like nothin’ better than to take another crack at me.”

  “Carmine!” I protested. “We can’t just ---.”

  He held up his hand cutting me off. “Walk away, Walt. This is family business. Please do us both a favor and just walk away.”

  I looked at Kevin, and we both looked at the .357 Magnum in Carmine’s hand.

  He nodded. “Let’s go, Walt.”

  As we turned to walk away, Carmine shouted, “That’s two, Gumshoe. We’re even. All square. I won’t forget this.”

  I’m sure I’ll never forget that moment either.

  There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that before the evening was over, Frankie Marchetti would be wearing the concrete shoes he had brought for his brother.

  A few short months ago, I was a cop, sworn to uphold the law, and yet, in the last twenty-four hours, I had committed perjury, tampered with evidence, and walked away from a gangland murder.

  Maybe I was just trying to rationalize things I wouldn’t have considered doing back then, but when I thought about the possible consequences of what might have happened had I not done those things, somehow I felt that justice had been served.

  I had been warned that working for the Lady Justice wearing the high heels and fishnet stockings would be vastly different from serving the Lady in the white flowing robe wearing a blindfold.

  I just didn’t realize how different it would actually be.

  EPILOGUE

  The next morning, the headline in the Star read, Carmine Marchetti Acquitted in the Death of Reporter Jack Carson.

  I couldn’t help but marvel at the paradox. On the very day Marchetti had been rightfully cleared of one murder, he had most likely committed another.

  As I reflected on the events of the past few weeks, I really couldn’t fault Detective Blaylock. It was certainly more reasonable to believe Jack had been killed by an incensed mobster than government agents protecting a clandestine program hidden from the public for decades. While Occam’s razor may apply in the long run, it certainly didn’t in this case.

  One positive out
come was that I was no longer obligated to Carmine Marchetti. It felt like a huge burden had been lifted off my shoulders knowing I was no longer beholden to the godfather of the Kansas City mafia.

  I was actually feeling pretty good and had a positive outlook on life until I stepped outside and saw a half dozen trails crisscrossing the sky from one horizon to the other.

  Sadly, it occurred to me that in spite of all that had been done and all the lives that were lost, the deadly trails were still with us.

  I remembered the days of my youth, when I would lay in the pasture after helping Grandpa with his chores, or in the outfield grass after a game, staring at the fluffy white clouds, my imagination running wild.

  Even though he gave his life to prevent it, Jack Carson’s unborn child would never have that opportunity. Instead, he would look into the sky and see gritty streaks that would dissipate into a dirty grey haze that would block the rays of the sun.

  I thought about how much had changed in the hundred and sixty years since Chief Seattle spoke those words of wisdom, “Teach your children that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.”

  And yet, those who govern us do exactly that --- they spit upon the earth. The aluminum, barium and ethylene dibromide fall from the sky poisoning the earth, so that today our crops cannot be grown as Mother Nature intended, but only from genetically modified seeds created to thrive in the polluted soil.

  The air we breathe fills our lungs with toxins and pollutes our bodies just as it does the soil, weakening our immune system and enabling crippling disease.

  The leaders of the world gather at an international conference, pompously declaring they are seeking solutions to climate change caused by greenhouse gasses, while the real agenda is climate manipulation through global spraying and the use of ionospheric heaters such as the HAARP installation, scattered throughout the world.