Ties That Bind aj-2

by Phillip Margolin

  "Everyone I talk to says nothing but the finest things about your son," Hunter said. "He must have been under tremendous pressure. I'd like to help him, and you can play an important part in making sure that he gets a lenient sentence."

  "What can I do?"

  "Before I go any further I'll need your word that you won't discuss what I tell you with anyone else."

  "I don't understand."

  "And I can't explain without your promise."

  Kerrigan conferred with his attorney. When they were through he turned back to Hunter.

  "I give my word that I'll keep your confidence. Now tell me how I can help Tim."

  "Tim's assistance in a larger investigation could have an impact on his charges and his sentence, but he's refusing to cooperate. If you want to help him, go to the hospital and talk sense into him. Believe me, he needs all the help he can get."

  Chapter Fifty-Two.

  An armed police officer manned a desk in front of the thick steel door that barred entry to the secure wing of the state hospital. William Kerrigan signed in. The officer checked his ID then pressed a button under the desk. Moments later, the steel door opened and an orderly escorted Kerrigan down a corridor surfaced with linoleum that smelled faintly of antiseptic. Halfway down the hall, another officer was sitting in front of Tim's hospital room. He checked Kerrigan's ID a second time before unlocking the door to the room.

  Tim turned toward the door when his father entered. He was pale. A thick bandage covered a good part of the right side of his head and there was a dark bruise where the bandage did not cover his skin. There was no life in his eyes.

  "Are you okay?" William asked.

  "I messed up, Dad." A tear formed. "I really messed up."

  William pulled a chair next to the bed. Tim looked away from him and wiped his eyes.

  "It'll be okay, son. I talked to J. D. Hunter, the FBI agent in charge of this case. You're going to be released from the hospital, today. Once you're out of here, we'll get the best lawyers and we'll get you through this."

  "No, I don't think so. You don't even know what's happened to me."

  "Hunter said that you killed a woman. You didn't do it, did you, Tim?"

  "I did kill her." Tim looked so lost. "God forgive me. I . . . I shot her then I set her on fire." Tim couldn't meet his father's eye. "I'm a terrible person. I've ruined Cindy's life and Megan's."

  "Hunter said that he'll help you if you cooperate with him. He didn't tell me what he wanted you to do, but he assured me that something will be done if you assist the FBI in an investigation."

  "I can't, Dad. If I . . ."

  "What is it?"

  "I can't tell you. I'd be putting you in danger."

  "I don't care, Tim. You're my son. What is it that they want you to do?"

  "You don't understand. They'll kill Cindy and Megan if I talk. They might even come after you."

  "Who are you talking about?"

  Tim shook his head.

  "The people who threatened you aren't more powerful than the federal government. I'll make sure that Cindy and Megan are protected."

  "You can't guarantee that. You don't understand who you're dealing with."

  "Then you have to tell me."

  Tim stared out the window. His father waited patiently. Then Tim seemed to make a decision.

  "Maybe you can help me. Maybe we can work this out."

  He thought some more. Then he took a deep breath.

  "It's Harvey, Dad. Harvey Grant. He's the one who threatened me."

  William's mouth dropped open. Then he laughed in disbelief.

  "Harvey is my oldest friend. We go back to junior high. He loves you. He's your godfather."

  "Please don't hate me, but I went to Harvey when I got in trouble. I didn't go to you. I felt that he . . . that you . . ."

  "You don't have to say any more, Tim. I understand why you didn't come to me. I'm not the warmest person. It's hard for me to show affection. But I've always loved you. If I've been hard on you it's because I wanted you to be the best."

  "I always thought you were disappointed in me, that you wished I . . . that I wasn't your son."

  "Oh, no, Tim. You've always made me proud. Now tell me what this is all about."

  Tim told his father about his evening with Ally Bennett and her attempt to blackmail him into dismissing Jon Dupre's case. Then he told him about his meetings with Harvey Grant and what had happened in Forest Park.

  "I can't believe this," William said. "I've known Harvey my whole life. I never suspected . . ."

  "It's true. And now you see why I can't cooperate. He'd have Cindy and Megan murdered. But I have something I can use against him. I know a way to find out the names of the members of his group."

  "How will you do that?"

  "When I signed the suicide note, Stan Gregaros told me that every new member does the same thing. The notes are confessions. The murder weapons have the member's fingerprints. If the police had them, they'd have a list of all the members and an airtight case against each one for murder. I want you to negotiate with Harvey. I'll go with you. We can meet in a public place so we'll be protected. The Westmont would be perfect."

  William looked at Tim's bandaged head. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

  "We have to act now. I told Hunter that Maria was insanely in love with me but I rejected her and she killed Ally Bennett to frame me. I said that she must have gotten my prints on the gun when I was unconscious and that she wrote the note. But the lab will analyze the note. Any minute, Hunter could learn that it's my writing. I'll be back in custody. That's why we have to meet with Harvey tonight."

  "What do you want from Harvey?"

  "A promise that he won't hurt my family. I won't help the authorities if he leaves everyone alone. I'll fight the murder charge but I'll take my medicine if I get convicted." Tim hung his head. "I'll deserve what I get, anyway."

  Then Tim looked up. He seemed very determined.

  "You tell Harvey that he has to promise not to hurt Cindy or Megan. If he won't agree I'll do everything I can to destroy him."

  Chapter Fifty-Three.

  Harvey Grant was in his chambers when William Kerrigan called him on his cell phone from Tim's hospital room.

  "How's Tim?" the judge asked.

  "He's being released in half an hour."

  "That's wonderful. I've been really worried."

  "Have you, Harvey?"

  "Of course. All it said in the paper was that Maria Lopez tried to kill him. No one's been able to tell me how he was doing, until now."

  "Well, he's doing fine. In fact, he wants to have dinner with you and me at the Westmont tonight."

  "Doesn't he want to be with Cindy and Megan?"

  "Yes, but it's more important that he makes sure that they're safe."

  "I don't understand."

  "I think you do. Tim and I had a long talk. He told me about the visits he paid to you recently."

  "I see."

  "I don't want to discuss this over a cell phone. Do you?"

  "No."

  "Then let's get together at the Westmont at eight. And Harvey, I think you should wait to hear what we say before you do anything rash. Tim's figured out how to bring down your whole house of cards."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "He'll tell you tonight. He's already committed his thoughts to paper. Peter Schwab will have it as soon as I leave here."

  "I'd never do anything to hurt Tim. I think of him as a son."

  "I'm glad, Harvey. Keeping thinking of him that way."

  "How can Tim hurt us?" Gregaros asked, after the judge told him what Kerrigan had said.

  "Did you tell Tim that the other members of the club sign suicide notes when they join?"

  "Yeah."

  "If the police get their hands on the notes and the weapons they'll have an open-and-shut case for the murder each member confessed to. Someone will cut a deal. Then it won't just be Kerrigan's word or Maria's word ag
ainst ours."

  "Kerrigan doesn't know where they're hidden."

  "They'll get a search warrant for my house. They'll tear it apart looking."

  "Then we have to get rid of the evidence."

  "No. If we destroy the confessions we'll lose our hold on the others. Fear keeps them in line. We just have to move the evidence off my property. Don't worry. I've worked everything out. We have to act quickly, so we'll do it tonight, before Kerrigan can tell anyone."

  A few hours later, Harvey Grant put the suicide notes and the guns into a large carton, which Victor Reis, his assistant, carried into the kitchen. A door from the kitchen opened into Grant's garage, so no one watching the house could see what they were doing. As soon as Reis put the carton in the trunk of Grant's Cadillac, he drove Grant to his meeting with the Kerrigans.

  Stone pillars marked the entrance to the Westmont. Reis drove through them and up the winding driveway, then pulled up in front of the clubhouse. The parking valet opened the door for the judge then went around to the driver's door. Reis was already out of the car. He gave the valet the keys to the Cadillac. He had a second set in his pocket, which he would use later.

  As Grant and Reis walked toward the main dining room, Burton Rommel walked up to them.

  "We have to talk about Tim," Rommel said. "I'm hearing rumors that he's in trouble. This could affect our decision to have him run for Harold's seat."

  "I'm having dinner with Tim and Bill, Burt. I'll straighten everything out."

  "Good."

  "Call me tomorrow and I'll tell you what happened."

  "I will. This is something that we have to do right now," Rommel said emphatically.

  "I agree completely. It won't do to wait around and let events take their course."

  "Glad we're on the same wavelength."

  The Kerrigans walked in a minute after Rommel walked away.

  "I've arranged for us to eat in one of the private dining rooms," Grant said.

  A narrow hall led to the back of the Westmont, where there were three private rooms. The one in which they were meeting had been swept for bugs shortly before the judge arrived. When they were all inside, Grant closed the door.

  "I'm going to insist that Victor check you for listening devices before we talk."

  William stiffened, but Tim laid a restraining hand on his forearm.

  "It's okay, Dad. Let him frisk us so we can get down to business."

  Reis was quick but thorough. When he was done, he shook his head.

  "Victor, will you please wait outside and make sure that we're not disturbed."

  "How are you feeling, Tim?" Grant asked as soon as the door closed behind Reis.

  "Maria was acting on your orders, Harvey," Tim answered, "so you can cut the shit."

  Grant stopped smiling. "What is it you want?"

  "Your assurance that Cindy, Megan, and my father won't be hurt if I keep my mouth shut."

  As soon as he closed the door of the private dining room, Victor Reis left the building and asked the valet for the keys to the car in which he was interested, and the number of the space in which it was parked. He also asked for the space where Grant's Cadillac was parked. The valet gave Reis the keys and the information without asking any questions.

  The Westmont's parking garage was a short distance from the main building. Reis was wary as he walked across a small outdoor lot to the garage. Two other members were waiting for their cars but Reis knew them. There were no strange cars or trucks within view.

  Grant's Cadillac was on the second floor. Reis checked the garage before taking the carton out of the trunk. No one was on the floor. The other car was parked nearby. Reis carried the carton to the car and put it in the trunk. A minute later, he gave the keys back to the valet and returned to wait outside the private dining room.

  Half an hour later, Reis drove Grant home. The judge's cell phone rang when they were almost to his gate. Just then, Victor Reis noticed two cars in the rearview mirror. It was very dark, but Reis was surprised that he hadn't noticed them before.

  Grant pulled out his cell phone. "Hello."

  "It's me."

  "Why are you calling?" Grant asked.

  "The carton wasn't in the trunk."

  Grant blanched. He was about to question Victor when he saw two cars parked in front of his gate. Reis braked sharply. The trailing cars hemmed in the Cadillac. J. D. Hunter stepped out of one of the cars. Several armed FBI agents got out of the other cars and surrounded Grant. Hunter pressed his identification against the driver's side window. Standing behind him was Sean McCarthy. Reis lowered the glass.

  "Good evening, Judge Grant, Mr. Reis," Hunter said. "Could you please step out of the car?"

  "What's this about?" Grant demanded.

  "Aiding and abetting the attempted murder of Tim Kerrigan, for starters. Then there are the attempts to murder Amanda Jaffe, Frank Jaffe, and Jon Dupre. Oh, yes, I almost forgot. There's the murder of United States Senator Harold Travis. I'm sure that there will be a lot more charges, but those will do for now."

  Chapter Fifty-Four.

  J. D. Hunter knew that Harvey Grant would hang tough, so he let him stew for an hour before joining the prisoner in a narrow, uncomfortably hot interrogation room. The judge knew all the tricks and made no protests about the heat or the time he'd been kept waiting. He just looked Hunter in the eye with a cool, appraising stare.

  "Good evening, Judge," Hunter said as another agent wheeled a television hooked up to a VCR into the room. "You're probably expecting me to try to trick you with clever questions but I don't have any. And I've been told that we can't use rubber truncheons anymore."

  Grant remained stone-faced.

  "We're not doing good cop, bad cop either," Hunter continued. "Just show and tell. So sit back and relax. Any cooperation with our investigation on your part will be strictly voluntary. Personally, I hope you don't cooperate. We've got enough evidence to send you away right now and I really don't want to cut you any breaks."

  A third agent entered the room and stood by the door while the agent who'd entered with Hunter made certain that the VCR was working, before inserting a cassette.

  "I'm going to show you a movie, but I'd like you to meet someone first. You don't have a heart condition, do you?"

  Grant didn't respond. Hunter laughed. "I knew you'd be a bitch to crack." He turned to the agent who was guarding the door and nodded. The agent opened the door and stood aside. The judge leaned forward and stared.

  Ally Bennett was standing in the doorway.

  "Hi, Your Honor," she said. "I can't wait to testify against you and your friends."

  Hunter nodded and Ally backed out of the room. Her eyes never left Grant until the door shut.

  "Miss Bennett is alive and well. It was all a setup."

  The judge looked thoroughly bewildered.

  "Don't feel bad about being conned. The Bureau uses a magician on occasion when we want to create an illusion. This guy is really good. I've seen his show in Vegas and L.A. Normally, I'd never let you in on a magician's professional secrets, but this will give you something to tell the other death-row inmates on cold, winter nights."

  Grant kept his jaws clamped tight, but his mind was racing. Hunter nodded, and a picture appeared on the television. It was Stan Gregaros's car following Bennett's on the night Kerrigan was supposed to have killed her. Hunter pointed at the rear of Ally's car.

  "One of Ms. Bennett's rear taillights was intentionally put out of commission. We had a cop pull her over to highlight that fact. When Stan got to the park, he was following a car with one working taillight. The trick depended on that piece of misdirection."

  The picture changed to a shot of Gregaros entering the park and winding along the twisting road that led to the meadow.

  "Earlier in the day, our magician constructed a stage set. We planted tall hedges to block the view from the road. There were black curtains on either side. Magicians call them black art drops. The drops look solid
but can be penetrated by a car. At night, it was impossible for Stan to tell that there was a set at the side of the road.

  "A row of low beacons guided Ally through the drop and behind the stage, where she parked. Also behind the stage was a specially rigged car that was identical, down to the bad taillight, to the one Ally was driving. Inside the car was a corpse dressed in clothes identical to hers. Blood packs were attached to the cadaver's clothes, and a wig was glued in place. A body harness under the clothes was secured to a magnetic latch that we installed in the driver's seatback. This held the body in place until a signal released it."