“And defense wounds on his hands,” Marcie added. “He was fighting her off.”
“You’re pretty sure it was Maddy Rivers,” Owen said.
“You got someone else in mind?” Marcie asked him. “Any evidence pointing at anyone else?”
Owen looked to his right and saw their boss, Lt. Selena Kane approaching. She took a chair from an empty desk, rolled up to her two detectives and sat down.
“Did you read the autopsy?” she asked looking from one to the other.
“Yeah,” Owen answered.
“Yes, ma’am,” Marcie said.
“And?” Selena asked.
“And what?” Owen replied.
“And when do we arrest Madeline Rivers? I just got off the phone with Steve Gondeck,” Selena continued referring to the chief felony prosecutor in the Hennepin County Attorney’s office. “He thinks we have enough for an arrest and so do I.”
“I thought we should wait for the DNA test results from what the crime scene people found in the bedroom,” Owen said.
“According to their report,” Selena said, “they found nothing in the bedroom to indicate there has been anyone in there except Robert Judd and an as of yet unidentified female whom we can reasonably believe is Ms. Rivers since she was found unconscious on the bedroom floor with the murder weapon in her hand. Plus, there were no fingerprints, no hair and no samples of any kind except those of two people.
“Owen, I know she’s a friend of yours. Steve Gondeck is heartbroken over this. He knows her and likes her too,” Selena said more softly. “Steve told me to tell you to call her lawyer and have him bring her in. We’ll keep it quiet, just the three of us and Steve. He can bring her in on Monday. Steve knows her lawyer very well and if he’s willing to vouch for her and guarantee he’ll have her here Monday morning at nine, we’ll give her the weekend. Give him a call.”
TWENTY-ONE
Steve Gondeck finished his deli sandwich at the same time he finished reading the story in the morning newspaper about the Judd homicide. The media was starting to turn the heat up wondering why the girlfriend, Madeline Rivers, had not been arrested. This morning’s article in the Minneapolis paper decided to drop all pretense and flat out claim it was racially motivated. The reporter had sought out quotes from two local community organizers. Both of them claimed that if Maddy Rivers was black, she would have been arrested at the scene.
Gondeck pushed himself away from his desk, spun his chair around and leaned on his credenza while he stared out of his office window. From the twentieth floor of the government center he had a great view of South Minneapolis including the chain of lakes toward the southwest.
Gondeck had been with the Hennepin County Attorney’s office ever since law school. He was a careful, methodical prosecutor who knew how to build a case and convince a jury. And woe be unto the foolish defendant whom Gondeck caught in a lie. Quick on his feet, if you tried lying with him as your prosecutor, he could, and did, crucify you with your own words in less than two minutes.
As chief prosecutor of the felony division, it would be his job to prosecute Maddy Rivers. He had known Maddy for several years and was, at least, a friendly rival of her lawyer, Marc Kadella. Aside from the fact his tongue practically fell out of his mouth whenever he saw Maddy, he genuinely liked her. She was a bright, pleasant, reasonable person. And he liked and respected Marc. But as chief prosecutor, he knew his boss would not let him recuse himself.
Gondeck’s phone went off and he knew who it was without looking. Lillian Gardner, the Hennepin County Attorney, was about to bite off a chunk of his ass.
“Yes, Lillian,” Gondeck said into the phone. “I’ll be right there.”
Lillian Gardner had been selected by the Governor, Ted Dahlstrom, to complete the term of her predecessor, Craig Slocum. Slocum had been forced to resign under a very dark cloud of scandal and misconduct. At the time of her appointment, Gondeck and everyone in the county attorney’s office was baffled by the selection. Why would Dahlstrom, a fairly conservative Republican, select her? Gardner was an uber-liberal feminist with no criminal law background. Gondeck also found out the forty-eight-year-old woman had not been in a courtroom in over twenty years. Rumor had it that the Democrats, led by Gardner’s friend Mayor Susan Gillette, insisted on her. Gondeck was convinced that Dahlstrom didn’t select her as much as he inflicted her upon Minneapolis as payback for being overwhelmingly Democrat.
Since she took charge, almost twenty-five percent of the lawyers had quit. Also, the cops with MPD hated her and crime in the city, mostly smaller offenses such as theft and burglary, were up almost thirty percent. And the cops blamed her directly. Gardner’s attitude, fueled by her own white guilt, was that gangbangers were really misunderstood youths and drug dealers were urban entrepreneurs.
Gondeck sat staring at his phone for several seconds then thought, Well, let’s go see what Old Iron Ass wants. Iron Ass being a nickname she had earned by rarely leaving her chair. Gondeck had a pretty good idea what her problem was. It was likely she saw the story in the paper and wanted Maddy Rivers arrested. Now.
He knocked on her door, entered her large corner office and before Gondeck had a chance to take a seat, without even a polite greeting, she started in on him.
“I just got off the phone with Mayor Gillette,” she said. Gondeck could see this morning’s paper on her desk with the Judd homicide story prominently displayed. “She had a talk with Chief Watters who had spoken to Lieutenant Kane of homicide…”
“I know who Selena Kane is,” Gondeck quietly said.
“Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, to cut to the chase, apparently you told Kane’s detective that Madeline Rivers could enjoy a nice, pleasant, leisurely weekend then surrender herself on Monday morning.”
There was a long pause between them during which Gondeck kept quiet.
“Well?!” Gardner snapped.
“Oh, I’m sorry, you want me to say something,” Gondeck irreverently said. “Yes, I did.”
A clearly annoyed Gardner said, “You call her lawyer, I assume you know who that is…”
“Yes, I do,” Gondeck blandly replied.
“…and get Madeline Rivers in here this afternoon. Since she is represented, I will extend the courtesy of allowing him to bring her in. But if she’s not here by five o’clock you put out a BOLO or whatever those things are and kick the MPD in the ass to go get her. Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gondeck, again, calmly replied.
“She can spend the weekend locked up.”
Won’t happen. She’ll be out in time for supper, Gondeck thought but knew better than to tell her.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Then I want to recuse myself from prosecuting this case.”
Gardner, caught off guard by that statement, looked at him for a few seconds then asked, “Why? Do you have a personal relationship with her?”
“I’ve known her for several years and consider her a friend.”
“Do you have a personal or romantic relationship with her?”
“Well, no, but…”
“Then the answer is no. You will not recuse yourself. I don’t want the media to claim favoritism by this office. Understood?”
“Okay,” Gondeck said quietly.
“Besides,” Gardner continued, “your personal knowledge of her could be an advantage.”
“And grounds for an appeal,” Gondeck said. “What are we charging her with,” he added before Gardner could reply.
“Murder two until we get the DNA then take it to a grand jury for first-degree. Throw in a couple of manslaughter charges as well.”
“So, Iron Ass saw this morning’s paper and her liberal guilt went into overdrive and now I have to bring Maddy in today,” Marc Kadella said to Gondeck.
“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate,” Gondeck said into his phone.
“Can we do this without the media being all over it?” Marc asked.
“I doubt it,” Gondeck replied. “They
won’t get it from me but this place, the mayor’s office and the police department, leak like sieves. They’ll find out.”
Marc looked at his watch, did some mental calculations then said, “I’ll have her there by three. Assuming I can get a hold of her.”
“Marc, get her here or I’ll have to issue an arrest warrant and have the cops find her.”
“I’ll see you at three and I’d appreciate it if you were there,” Marc said.
“Wouldn’t miss it. In fact, I’ll be in my office all afternoon. Call me when you’re on the way.”
“Will do.”
After speaking to Gondeck, Marc had immediately called Maddy at Vivian’s. He quickly gave her the bad news and told her he was on the way. Less than thirty minutes later he parked next to Tony’s Camaro in Vivian’s driveway.
All three of them, Vivian, Tony and Maddy, were waiting for him in the library. Marc sat down on a couch next to Maddy, put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. She had her hands folded in her lap and was nervously squeezing and releasing them over and over.
“Hey, it’ll be okay. I promise,” Marc told her.
“Why are they doing this? What evidence do they have? What…” Vivian started to ask.
“Vivian,” Marc said holding up his hand to stop her. “We’ve been expecting this all week. I don’t know what evidence they have. We’ll see. I suspect it’s because they lack any evidence involving anyone else.
“Did you see the story in this morning’s paper?” Marc asked.
“Yes,” Vivian said.
“No,” Maddy replied. “What was it?”
“They’re trying to make this some kind of white privilege deal. Claiming if you were black you’d already be in jail.”
“Is that true?” Vivian asked.
“No, I don’t believe that,” Marc said. “I know the lawyers in the county attorney’s office. I know the MPD detectives. It’s not about race, it’s about evidence. Hell, Owen Jefferson is a black man and as straight as any cop there is. Their race claims are about selling newspapers.
“They’re making her come in on Friday afternoon and they’ll try to stall to prevent her from getting before a judge to try to make her spend the weekend in jail. Vivian, here’s what I want you to do…”
With Maddy in the back seat and Tony riding shotgun in front, Marc drove around both the Old City Hall and the Hennepin County Government Center across Fifth Street. He was looking for something he didn’t want to find but found it anyway. On the north side of the Old City Hall, parked along Fourth Street, were vans from every local TV station.
“I figured they would pull that stunt and get the media out,” Marc said.
“I wonder if Gabriella’s here,” Maddy said.
Tony turned in his seat to look at Maddy and said, “I doubt it. They’ll send a reporter. But she’ll have to cover it. At least one of these jackals will be fair to you.”
Marc parked across the street in the underground government center lot. The three of them took the tunnel under Fifth Street and when they reached the police booking area, the herd of reporters began to circle them.
Tony shielded Madeline from them and stood with her while Owen Jefferson read her the Miranda warning. With Jefferson were Marcie Sterling and Steve Gondeck.
Marc held the media at bay and made the usual defense lawyer claims about his client’s innocence. He gave the standard answers about the prosecutors being pressured to make an arrest and their weak case. Satisfied that they had enough film and quotes, they backed off and left Marc to go attend to his client.
Marc joined Tony, the cops and Gondeck, while the deputy was about to lead Maddy away.
“Deputy,” Marc politely said to the man who loosely held Maddy’s arm. “After you’re done booking her, we’ll need her in a conference room.”
“Sorry, lawyer. Our jail doesn’t work on your schedule,” the man replied with an evident attitude just as Gondeck joined Marc.
Before Gondeck could intervene, Marc’s eyes narrowed and he snarled at the deputy, “Do you really want to explain to Chief Judge Jennrich why you took it upon yourself to deny my client her Constitutional right to counsel?”
The startled man stuttered, “Well, uh, no, I guess not, sorry.”
“And be quick about it,” Marc added.
“Yes, sir,” the chastened man said.
Marc and Gondeck watched the deputy lead Maddy away to be booked. Gondeck said, “Why do we need a conference room?”
Marc turned to answer him then saw an elderly gentleman approaching from the direction of the tunnel Marc, Maddy and Tony had walked through. He was in his mid-sixties, had thinning white hair, wore a slightly rumpled, charcoal gray suit and no tie. He was also very well known to the prosecutor.
“For him,” Marc said nodding his head toward the man.
Gondeck turned and saw him coming then whispered to Marc, “How did you do this on a Friday afternoon?”
“Pays to know people,” Marc whispered back.
“Good afternoon, your Honor,” Gondeck said when the man reached them.
“Thanks for coming, Judge,” Marc said.
“No problem,” Judge Harold Jennrich, Chief Judge of the Hennepin County District Court said. “My court reporter will be along in a few minutes.”
Barely two minutes later, two more men arrived both a little frazzled from running the media gauntlet. One of the men was the judge’s court reporter and the other looked like either a corporate lawyer or an accountant. He was wearing a three-piece suit with a bowtie and introduced himself as Vivian Donahue’s representative, the man who was there to make Maddy’s bail.
An hour later, Marc, Tony and Maddy were back in Marc’s SUV on their way back to Vivian’s.
“Thank you,” Maddy told them both for at least the tenth time.
Finally, Marc said over his shoulder to her, “Don’t thank us yet. That was the easy part.”
TWENTY-TWO
“What part of ‘give this case a priority’ don’t you people understand?” Owen Jefferson asked as calmly as he could into his telephone. He was talking to a lab supervisor at the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension about the DNA analysis from Rob Judd’s bedroom. Owen was squeezing the handle of his office phone so hard Marcie Sterling thought he was going to break it. Marcie was watching the vein on Owen’s temple throb while doing her best not to laugh at his discomfort. Owen had good reason to be angry but Marcie knew if she laughed it would only make it worse.
“I don’t give a damn how many samples you have to test! For Christ’s sake, it’s been over a week…”
Owen stopped to listen and looked at Marcie who covered her mouth with her hand. Owen continued to listen, gave Marcie a hard look and waved an admonishing index finger at her.
Owen moved the phone’s mouthpiece below his chin and said to Marcie, “He’s checking. Don’t you dare laugh.”
“I’m sorry,” Marcie said barely containing herself.
“It’s not funny,” Owen growled. “Okay, it’s a little funny but don’t…Yeah, I’m still here,” he said into the phone. “They’re done?” he continued more calmly. “And?”
He listened to the man for a moment then said, “Okay. Get us the official report this morning and thanks.”
Jefferson replaced the phone handle in its cradle, rubbed his face with the palms of both hands then looked across their desks at Marcie.
“Well?” she asked.
“DNA from Robert Judd and one unidentified female. We need to get a sample from Madeline Rivers for a comparison.” While he was saying this, Jefferson was dialing his phone.
“Steve, it’s Owen Jefferson,” he said to Steve Gondeck.
“What did you find out, Owen?”
“What we thought,” he sighed. “They’ve found DNA from Robert Judd and a female who has to be…”
“Maddy Rivers,” Gondeck finished for him. “I’ll call her lawyer and see if he’ll let us get a sample from her. W
hy do I feel so shitty about this?”
“Because we don’t want it to be true,” Jefferson replied.
Three hours later, Marc and Maddy were in his SUV westbound on I-394 to go back to Vivian’s home. They were leaving downtown Minneapolis after having a lab tech swab Maddy’s mouth for a saliva sample. Gondeck, Jefferson and Marcie were all there. While the tech did his thing, Gondeck had taken Marc into a room where they could talk.
“I’m sick about this,” Gondeck confessed.
“So hand it off to someone else,” Marc said. “There are other…”
“She won’t let me,” Gondeck said referring to his boss.
“Sucks to be you,” Marc replied. “What do you want, Steve?”
“We’re going to take this to a grand jury for first-degree.”
“Okay,” Marc shrugged. “Do what you have to do. I can’t stop you.”
“Gardner’s pissed that you were able to get Jennrich down to the jail to get her arraigned, have bail set and released right away. Off the record, how did you do that?”
Marc thought the question over for a moment then said, “Might as well tell you, you’ll know soon enough anyway. Vivian Donahue thinks of Maddy as the daughter she would have wanted to have. She called Dahlstrom,” Marc continued referring to Minnesota’s governor, “and he called Jennrich. I guess they’re golfing buddies.”
“So Lillian Gardner, in an election year for the county attorney’s job she wants as a stepping stone to Washington, just made an enemy of Vivian Donahue,” Gondeck said with a huge smile. “I’ll have fun watching that ton of bricks drop on Gardner’s head.”
“Don’t tell her,” Marc said.
“No chance,” Gondeck replied. “It’ll be too much fun standing by watching it happen. I just wish it was Craig Slocum,” he added referring to Gardner’s predecessor.
Turning serious, Gondeck said, “I just want you to know, I’ll put my personal feelings aside and prosecute Maddy to the best of my ability.”
“You better, it’ll be your ass if you don’t,” Marc said.
[Marc Kadella 06.0] Delayed Justice Page 15
