Deadly Distractions, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 6
Page 39
CHAPTER 39
THE CIA CONNECTION
Fear gripped me when I realized Paula couldn't win. I had never lost a case before and it was hard to accept the fact that it was about to happen. It's not that I believed I was invincible. I knew I would lose plenty of cases during my career, but not this one. I had to somehow pull it out. I racked my brain for ideas. I needed a strategy to save the day, but what would it be?
I was still seated at the defense table after everyone had left. Depression was sweeping over me quickly and I felt like finding the nearest bar and drinking myself into a drunken bliss. But that would have been the easy way out and would only seal Paula's fate. There had to be something productive I could do even if it were too late to avert a conviction. There would be an appeal.
I was sure now that Cabrillo, Garcia, and Armstrong were involved in Monty's death. Garcia had thrown that in my face. They were also somehow connected to S & T Packing, Don Harris, and the 18th Street Gang. I needed to figure out how everything fit together. I got up, packed up my briefcase, and headed for home. On the way, my mind pondered and calculated every imaginable scenario. What business was Don Harris really in? S & T Packing was obviously his cover. I needed to know more about both of them. It was time to call Mo.
Mo was a client I had taken through bankruptcy. When the case was all over, he informed me confidentially that he was with the CIA and had been instructed by the Agency to go to me and file bankruptcy. I often wondered why the Agency had chosen me as their bankruptcy attorney, why Mo had told me about it, and how many other operatives I had unknowingly put through bankruptcy. As interesting as those questions were, they were irrelevant at the moment. The bottom line was I had a resource I hadn't used. When I got home, I put in a call to Mo. His wife answered and said she'd have him call me back. Mo had told me the drill. He couldn't accept my phone calls at home but would call me back within two hours. As I hung up the phone, Rebekah came up behind me and started rubbing my shoulders.
"Tough day, huh?" she said.
I turned around and we embraced. "Oh, God. I'm so worried about Paula being convicted. I've been sick all evening."
"Maybe she won't be. The jury may see through Miss Cabrillo and her good Samaritan friends."
I pulled my head back and looked into her eyes. "I hope so, but that's not what I see in their faces."
Rebekah nodded and pulled me close to her again.
"What jury wouldn't relish the opportunity to put the screws to an attorney," I said holding Rebekah tightly. Tears were beginning to well in my eyes when the telephone rang. I let go of her and grabbed the telephone.
"Hello."
"Stan. It's Mo. You called?"
"Yeah, thanks for returning my call," I said. "How are you?"
"Still kicking. Things have picked up a bit since I saw you last."
"Good. Glad to hear it. . . . Hey, I could use a little help on a case I'm working."
"I bet. I heard you took on the Dusty Thomas case. You seem to like impossible cases."
"Not really. They just seem to fall in my lap."
"I've been reading a lot about you in the paper. Kidnapping? Attempts on your life? Hit and runs? What's the deal?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. I think there is a lot more to the Dusty Thomas case than people realize."
"It sounds like it. How can I help?"
"There is a local man, Don Harris. He is supposedly a graphic artist but he runs some kind of business out of a company called S & T Packing. They have a warehouse in Wylie. One of the witnesses against my partner, Paula Waters, used to work for S & T. We think Don Harris may have killed Bobby Tuttle and that he's orchestrated the attacks on us to distract us from pursuing him."
"You know, actually everyone at the Agency is supposed to be helping convict Dusty Thomas. The government wants him to fall and fall hard," Mo said.
"Oh. So you can't help me out?"
"I didn't say that. I just wanted you to know what you're up against."
I laughed. "Believe me. I know. That's why I need your help. I'm way over my head in this one."
"What would you like me to do?" Mo asked.
"Check out Don Harris for me and find out what you can about S & T Packing. I need to find out what he's in to."
"No problem. It will take a few days. Anything else?"
I told him about General Moya, Tex Weller, the 1.8 million dollar ransom, and the threat on my life.
"I have this constant fear of getting gunned down while I'm walking into my office. And every time I get in my car I'm afraid to turn on the ignition for fear the car will blow up. I can't sleep at night sometimes. Since General Moya has become a mortal enemy, I need to know as much as possible about him. I know it's a lot to ask, but if you can help me, I would appreciate it."
"The agency probably has a lot of information on General Moya. They monitor guerilla leaders and their activities very closely. It shouldn't be a problem, but it may take a little time getting it together."
"Well, the Don Harris information is the most vital."
"I'll take care of it. It was nice hearing from you."
"Likewise. . . . Thanks a lot, Mo. I really appreciate it."
"Oh, Stan. . . . Before you go. I'm referring a friend of mine. He needs to file bankruptcy quickly and discreetly, okay?"
"Sure, I'll take good care of him."
"I know you will."
The referral caught me by surprise. I assumed it was another agent who'd run up a pocket full of credit cards to the max. I thought it was an ingenious way to stretch the CIA budget or perhaps fund an unauthorized operation. But that wasn't my problem. I just prayed Mo would dig up some useful information. Time was running out for both Paula and Dusty Thomas.