Deidre’s thoughts were interrupted by Jill.
“Sorry, Boss Lady, unless you can raise the dead, you’re going to have a tough time getting any info from William Ojannen. He died six months ago. Fell off a ladder and broke his neck. You’d think at his age he’d have known better. Anyway, he won’t have much to give you.”
Deidre still wasn’t sure how to respond to this working arrangement. What could she say, the woman was more than competent.
“I ran off a copy of a Google map for you. It has instructions for getting to the judge’s house on Lake Calhoun. If you leave now, you can be there by four and still have time to make it back tonight.”
It was as if Jill had read her mind. She had planned to try to meet the judge.
In a half hour she was in her car and on her way to Minneapolis, realizing the road was becoming all too familiar. She stopped at Tobie’s, a legendary stop on I-35 midway between Duluth and the Twin Cities, ordered one of their famous caramel rolls and a cup of coffee to go, and was back on the road in fifteen minutes.
Juggling the coffee and the sticky roll, she managed to drive at the same time. Deidre mulled over what she would say if she had the opportunity to see the judge. She didn’t want to call ahead to ask for an audience, knowing the phone would probably be hung up, if it were answered at all.
No, she wanted this visit to be a surprise. She thought if she could catch him off guard, she might have a chance.
Jill’s map and directions were easy to follow, and she maneuvered the streets with no problem. A little after four in the afternoon, Deidre pulled over to the curb near 1300 Calhoun Drive. She didn’t want her BCA emblem to be noticed so she made sure she parked down the block.
As she neared the front door of his house, she could hear the shrill voice of a woman screaming obscenities inside, but she couldn’t quite catch every word.
“You lying bastard! Don’t you come close to me. I’ve put up with your philandering long enough. No! Don’t you ever touch me again you . . .” Deidre couldn’t make out what the last word was, but she could guess.
She hesitated before ringing the door bell, and during that moment’s hesitation, the door flew open, and a very angry woman, her jacket open and flapping in the November cold, stormed past. She carried a suitcase in each hand.
Janelle DeMarcus, Tony’s ex-wife-to-be, stopped in front of Deidre. “You blond bimbo, are you lining up to see the judge already? Well, go to it, you little tart, and have a good time with that worn out old SOB. You’ll find out he’s not much good in the bedroom, or anywhere else.”
Janelle spit on the ground as if trying to get a bad taste out of her mouth, threw her stuff in a van, and peeled out of the driveway.
The judge stepped to the doorway, a drink in his hand. He teetered for a moment and then hurled the glass at the speeding van. It fell short and shattered on the concrete.
“Who the hell are you,” he barked at Deidre, looking at her through bleary eyes.
“My name is Deidre. I’d like to come in if you don’t mind.” She smiled as sincerely at the drunk as she could.
The judge cursed and said, “I don’t want to talk to anybody. Get lost.” But then he looked again at the petite blond who stood on his doorstep, smiling innocently at him.
“Oh, hell, come on in. Maybe we can get to know each other.”
Tony DeMarcus poured himself another drink, and flopped down in an expensive leather chair. “So, what do you want?” he slurred.
“Judge, I need some legal advice. I—”
Before she could continue, he broke in. “Leave the SOB. That’s what he is, an SOB. In fact,” and he pointed his drink at Deidre, “we’re all a bunch of SOBs.” Tony took a long swig from the glass and went silent, staring at the floor.
“Judge,” Deidre tried again. He reacted as though he had forgotten she was there, jerking upright and trying to focus his eyes on her.
“Wha?” he asked. Deidre figured she better get to the point before he passed out.
“Judge, I have a hypothetical situation I’d like your advice about. From your years on the bench, are you familiar with anyone who might be connected to a prostitution ring in Hennepin County?”
The judge looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Hell, yes. This county is filled with crime. Every year, we try more cases than all the rest of the state. Walk down Hennepin Avenue any night of the week, and then ask me that question.”
“Well, then, hypothetically speaking of course, do you have any judge friends who might be involved with prostitution?”
“Hypothetically? I suppose one or two might be.” He drained his glass and reached for the bottle to pour another.
“If I were talking to one of them, do you think he’d be able to name some names of the pimps involved?”
The judge shifted his feet. “Maybe. Might there be anything in it for me if I say yes?”
Deidre smiled sweetly at him. “Might be, judge. But what would your friend have to tell me?”
“I think he’d say, ‘Billy Evers.’”
“And where would he say I’d find this Billy Evers?”
The judge leered at Deidre. “He’s in jail.”
With those words he drained his glass, began to make a move toward Deidre from his chair, and fell flat on his face, passed out.
“Sorry, Judge, I guess that’s all you’re going to get. And you’re wrong. Not all men are a bunch of SOBs.”
She let herself out of the house, not bothering to rouse the inebriated judge, and climbed into her SUV. Deidre was getting ready to call Jill, but her phone rang while it was in her hand.
“Hi, Boss Lady. It’s Jill.”
Deidre was about to recite her rehearsed script about respect, authority, and protocol, but Jill cut her off. “I’ve found the names of three people charged with prostituting women and let off by Judge DeMarcus. DeJohn Franklin appeared before him four years ago. The judge ruled the evidence against him had been compromised and dismissed the case. The prosecuting attorney went ballistic and received a stayed sentence for contempt of court. Mr. Franklin was killed in a drive-by shooting last December, so you won’t have to interview him.”
All Deidre could do was listen and take notes. Jill continued. “The second is Trenton Williams. He appeared before DeMarcus two years ago. Same situation, same results. The judge declared the evidence inadmissible, much to the chagrin of attorney. Evidently, Trenton left the city after his release, because two months later he was arrested in New York City. He was convicted of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder, and kidnapping. He’s serving a twenty-year sentence in the Downstate Correctional Facility in Fishkill, New York.”
Jill concluded, “Not only would it be time consuming to interview him, it also might not be productive, because he’s been in jail for over a year and a half.”
Deidre still couldn’t get in a word.
“The third is more interesting. His name’s Billy Evers. Four months ago, his case was dismissed by our favorite judge, but he was arrested on a different warrant a couple of days ago at the same time the judge was caught with his pants down. Billy is in the Hennepin County Jail, and his arraignment hearing is set for nine tomorrow morning. You’ll never guess who his attorney is—Gerald Colter II, a Two Harbors attorney. I thought you might try to see Billy this evening, if he’ll talk to you. You might even want to hear Mr. Colter’s argument in the morning, so I’ve booked a room for you at the Marriott. You might as well be comfortable while you’re there. Got a pencil? Here’s the address.” Deidre wrote down what Jill dictated.
“So, anything else you want me to do before you get back tomorrow afternoon?”
Deidre was still writing. “No. No, this is fine. I’ll see you around two or three tomorrow.”
“Bye, then,” and Deidre
heard Jill disconnect the phone.
She was not quite sure how she was going to handle the whirlwind who camped in her office, and as she drove, she brooded on the problem. By the time she arrived at the Hennepin County Jail, she had come to the conclusion that Jill had done exactly what she, Deidre, would have asked her to do. It was just unnerving to have Jill do everything before she was asked.
She presented her identification to the guard manning the metal detector in the entry and was allowed to pass through. It was a long shot. Billy Evers probably wouldn’t talk to her anyway, but she was here and might as well try.
To her disbelief, when she made her request known, she was escorted to a room divided by a glass partition. She sat in a wooden chair opposite a speaker mounted in the glass, and she saw movement in the hall leading in from the other side. A man who looked to be about thirty-five sat down opposite her on the other side of the glass.
“I’m Deidre Johnson, an investigator with the BCA. Are you Billy Evers?” Deidre asked, staring directly into his eyes.
“I am.
“Can I ask you a couple of questions not related to your case?”
“You can, but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer them.”
“How well do you know Gerald Colter?”
Billy thought for a full ten seconds. “Well enough to call him.”
“Have you ever been to Duluth or up the North Shore?”
Billy grinned and took his time answering. “No, can’t say I have.”
“How did you know to call Mr. Colter to be your attorney.”
Again a long pause. “His name’s in the phonebook.”
“And you just happened to pick the Two Harbors phonebook?”
Billy smirked. “Good as any.”
“Do you know anything about the trafficking of women to the sailors on the boats in Duluth?”
Billy’s face went blank. “I suppose it could happen.”
Deidre knew she was getting nowhere, that Billy Evers was mocking her. “Where were you two weeks ago tonight?”
Billy shrugged. “I’m a busy man. Do you expect me to remember that far back. If I had my calendar, I’d check it, but they’re kind of fussy about those kinds of things in here.” He squinted at her. “Say, you’re pretty good lookin’ for a cop. Doin’ anything tonight? I thought we might get together, say sevenish.” He laughed at his attempt to be funny.
Deidre glared at him, wondering if she should get up and leave or say what she felt like saying.
“Anything else? Otherwise, I’m bored.” Billy motioned for the guard to take him back to his cell.
Deidre left, wishing she hadn’t been so foolish as to get into a peeing contest with a skunk. When she got to her hotel, she was thankful for Jill’s foresight. The hot shower relieved some of her tension, and she set the alarm for six-thirty the next morning. It would be good to observe Gerald Colter II in action.
She was seated in the courtroom at nine o’clock the next morning and heard the bailiff call out, “All rise.” The judge, a stern looking woman with graying hair and heavy, black eyebrows stomped to her place and sat down.
The bailiff read from a script. “The case of William Evers versus the State of Minnesota.”
The judge addressed Billy. “You are charged with being complicit to prostitution, to contributing to the delinquency of a minor, and with having sexual contact with a minor. How do you plead?”
Before Billy could answer, his attorney, Gerald Colter, sprang to his feet. He stretched out his arm and adjusted his shirt cuff so his expensive Rolex watch glinted in the light for everyone to see.
“I am requesting that all charges against my client be dropped, Your Honor. If you will take a brief moment to scan the police report, I’m sure you will agree that Mr. Williams has never been involved in such practices as the warrant against him charges today. That woman assured him she was over eighteen, and he took her at her word. Secondly—”
The judge cut him off and stared at him over the rims of her glasses. “That will be enough, Mr. Coulter. From your outburst, I assume you mean to plead not guilty. Am I correct?”
Colter was not cowed, and he glared back at her. “You are correct in that assumption. I will, however, further request that my client be released without bail. He resides in Minneapolis, has relatives in this area, and has three children. Obviously he is not flight risk and has assured me he wishes to clear his good name of these charges.”
The judge continued to stare impassively at the attorney. “Bail is set at one hundred thousand dollars. Until that is paid or until this case is scheduled for trial, Mr. Evers will be remanded to the Hennepin County Jail.” She hammered her gavel. “Next case.”
Gerald Colter glared at her as though he thought he could intimidate her.
Once a bully, always a bully, Deidre thought.
Deidre watched Colter gather up his papers, and as he looked back at the courtroom observers, he spotted Deidre. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared, but he gave no other indication he saw her.
Chapter 13
Deidre glanced at her desk calendar. On the square reserved for November 28, Jill had placed a turkey sticker, its tail fanned out in full display. Thanksgiving was only three days away, and Deidre could hardly wait.
Ben had called and invited her to spend the day with him and the girls. He said his mother and father would be there as well, a thought that unnerved her somewhat. Also his brother and sister-in-law, as well as his sister, her husband, and their two children, ages ten and twelve would be present.
She almost declined the invite, but she had nowhere else to go and had no valid excuse to be alone on a holiday.
Now, she was happy she had accepted. Each of the twins sent her an invitation scribbled in their four-year-old hand, and Ben had asked her to come the evening before to help him prepare the meal.
Her desk phone rang, and she absentmindedly picked up, her mind still on Thanksgiving Day.
“Deidre, this is Jeff. I’d have come down to your office to see you in person, but things have been a little hectic here this morning. Dan Butler called me a few minutes ago to report something, and I thought you’d be interested in hearing about this. A cabin owner to the west of Palisade Head told him someone broke into one of the old cabins at the Head’s base and is squatting there. I’m going to investigate. Will be leaving in a few minutes. Here’s the kicker. A few people have caught a glimpse of this mystery person. It’s a girl, they’re pretty sure, but she never lets them get close enough to be positive. She seems to be more animal than human, always slinking from sight, never allowing anyone to approach her. And . . . she seems to fit the description of the girl you found dead.”
Deidre could hardly believe what Jeff was saying. Sheriff Jeff DeAngelo, the man who had been elected to her former position was a dear friend, and she knew that if he called, he had already done some checking to make sure it wasn’t a wild goose chase.
“When are you leaving?” Deidre asked.
“I’ll swing by your office in five minutes. We can take my squad. No reason for us to drive separately.”
Deidre told Jill where she was going and asked her to check on what clients Gerald Colter II had in the Twin Cities in the past four years. She’d have to search court records for that information. Jeff knocked on the office door, then poked his head in. “Ready?” he asked.
Deidre had her winter jacket and boots on. “How much snow is up there?” she asked, referring to Palisade Head.
“They had a good dump the night before last. I’d say about a foot.”
Deidre knew the area they were going to visit well. Palisade Head, a massive rock outcrop on the shore of Lake Superior, was a sheer cliff dropping straight down to the boulder-strewn shore. Geologists estimate that it was formed over a billion years ago, when a fissu
re opened in the earth’s surface and untold amounts of lava oozed from the crack. Now it stood over three hundred feet above lake level.
It was a popular tourist site. Although dangerous, sightseers could virtually walk to the edge and look over. In the past, there had been accidental deaths resulting from someone losing their balance and falling from the precipice. Some were probably not accidental. When she was sheriff, she had been called to investigate two of those deaths.
With the recent snow accumulation, and taking into account the minus-ten wind chill factor, Deidre was sure no one would be on the Palisade today. She calculated they would have a half-mile trudge to the abandoned cabin, find the homeless person, talk her into coming back with them, and take her to the women’s shelter in downtown Two Harbors.
Jeff parked his SUV on the side of the road opposite a nearly hidden driveway, and they began slogging through the snow. Deidre was forced to pull up the hood of her parka to shield her face from the frigid winter air. Their breath crystallized as soon as it left their mouths, and the cloud of frozen moisture scattered in the wind.
A few yards in, they were surprised to find a set of tracks in the snow. “Someone else must know about this place,” Jeff commented. “It looks like they came in from the driveway to the south. Maybe it’s a neighbor come to check on the girl.”
Deidre was too cold to answer. She plowed on with her head bowed against the wind. It took them twenty minutes to reach the tumble-down cabin. When they did, they could see the tracks they had been following veered to the left, heading up the grade toward the cliff.
Wood smoke rose from the cabin’s chimney, and Deidre noted several trails leading from the door. Evidently, the occupant had been here for a while and had been scrounging the forest for firewood.
She stepped onto the open porch and knocked on the door. “Anyone in there?” No one answered. Deidre pounded harder, and the unlatched door swung inward.
A River Through Two Harbors Page 10
