One Day Gone

by Luana Ehrlich

  “Did you know she was Senator Allen’s daughter?”

  “Not until she told me. I also didn’t know Judge Woodard was the President’s nominee for the Appeals Court until I heard it from her.”

  “What specifically did she tell you about the article?”

  “She said she planned to highlight the judge’s academic career here at Mizzou, and she wanted to interview me because I was one of his students. She said she wanted to write an in-depth article about the relationship the judge had with his students.”

  “What type of questions did she ask you?”

  “She wanted to know how he related to his students, what kind of teaching methods he used, and my overall opinion of him.”

  I detected a note of displeasure in Dawson’s voice, but I couldn’t decide if it was because I was grilling him, or because he didn’t want to talk about having Judge Woodard as one of his professors.

  I decided to probe a little deeper.

  “Were you agreeable to doing the interview?”

  “No, Mr. Grey,” he said, shaking his head, “I was not agreeable. I told her I’d heard some disturbing things about the judge, and I didn’t want to be associated with the article because I felt sure they’d come out once the judge had to go before the Judiciary Committee.”

  When I heard his response, it occurred to me Nina could be right, and Dawson was the person who’d sent me the anonymous letter about the judge.

  A few seconds later, I discarded that notion.

  Dawson said, “Lizzie told me if I knew anything that would disqualify the judge from being appointed, I should immediately get in touch with her father or someone else on the Judiciary Committee and let them know about my concerns.”

  “That was good advice.”

  “I refused to do that because all I had was one person’s testimony with no evidence to back it up. I told Lizzie if the rumors were true, others would come forward with more facts.”

  “What was Lizzie’s reaction when you told her this?”

  “I don’t know how well you know the senator’s daughter, but she’s nothing if not persistent. She finally persuaded me to tell her the rumors I’d heard about the judge. I only did so after she promised me she wouldn’t tell the senator or anyone on the Judiciary Committee unless she heard the same information from another source.”

  “So you told her about the rumors?”

  “That’s correct.”

  I stared at him for a couple of seconds before he got the message. “And now,” he said, “I suppose it’s time for me to tell you what I told Lizzie.”

  “That’s right, Dr. Dawson. Tell me exactly what you told Lizzie, and please don’t leave anything out. I want every detail.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find the story interesting.”

  * * * *

  Dawson was right, although he wasn’t much of a storyteller. Despite that, he managed to keep my interest.

  He began his narrative by describing a student in his constitutional law class who’d come to his office after failing an exam.

  “I’m not going to share the student’s name with you. I’ll just call him Ted. When Ted begged me to let him take the exam over, I asked him why he thought he’d done so poorly on the test, and he said it was because he’d gone to Vegas over the weekend and spent his time gambling instead of studying.”

  “That would do it all right.”

  Dawson gave me a weak smile. “Although I was concerned about his test scores, I was more concerned about what kind of future he’d have as a lawyer if he wasn’t more disciplined, so I lectured him on how detrimental a gambling addiction could be to his career. That’s when he told me he knew a Missouri Supreme Court Judge who gambled regularly at several of the Vegas casinos.”

  “Judge Woodard?”

  “That’s right. He said he’d seen the judge at a number of the casinos. However, he said no one knew his real identity, because when he was in Vegas, he went by the name of Jonathan Means.”

  “You believed your student?”

  “Oh, yeah. He showed me a picture of the judge, and I recognized him immediately.”

  “One picture at a casino doesn’t necessarily mean Judge Woodard has a gambling problem.”

  “Well, there’s a lot more to the story than that. Ted said he introduced himself to the judge, a.k.a. Jonathan Means, one evening after they’d both suffered heavy losses at the same casino. He knew the judge had lost a big bet earlier in the day, and that he’d spent the rest of the day trying to recoup the loss. Then, by nine o’clock or so, the judge had lost even more.”

  “Did he say how much?”

  “He thought it was around $50,000. The judge had also been drinking heavily, so Ted suggested they take a break and get something to eat. For some reason, the judge revealed his true identity during the meal. He also indicated he wasn’t too concerned about how much money he’d lost, because the last time he’d lost that much, he took out a home improvement loan and paid it off immediately.”

  “So Ted told you about Judge Woodard’s gambling to counter your argument his gambling could be detrimental to his own career?”

  He nodded. “More or less, but I also think Ted recognized he and the judge shared the same problem. Maybe telling me about the judge was his way of trying to get some help. Fortunately, I was able to convince Ted to try Gamblers Anonymous, and I know he’s been to at least one meeting already.”

  “Let’s get back to Lizzie. After you told her you didn’t want to be interviewed for the article on Judge Woodard because you didn’t want to be associated with the judge once his gambling addiction became public, why did you meet with Lizzie on two other occasions?”

  He sighed. “Because Lizzie called me a few days later and said she had some ethical questions she wanted to discuss with me. She suggested we get together for dinner.”

  “Why didn’t she just come here to your office?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t ask her, but since it was the weekend, and this building’s closed, I just assumed that was the reason.”

  “What kind of ethical questions did she have for you?”

  “Her questions weren’t about the judge. They were about the ethics of what she’d done with the information I’d given her about the judge.”

  “Did she tell someone about it?”

  “It was worse than that, and I admit I was blown away when I heard it. She said she had proof the judge had recently taken out a home improvement loan at his bank.”

  “She had proof?”

  “That’s right. She said she knew someone on campus who was a computer hacker, so she got in touch with him and—”

  “Lizzie contacted a computer hacker?”

  He nodded. “She emphasized the guy only did it for fun, and that he had never used his hacking for malicious intent.”

  “Right.”

  “Somehow her hacker friend was able to find out which bank the judge used for his banking, and he hacked into the bank’s main computer system. She said he didn’t have any trouble finding proof the judge had taken out a home improvement loan shortly after he’d incurred the $50,000 gambling loss.”

  “Was Lizzie really asking you about the ethics of getting her computer friend to obtain this information for her? Surely she already knew the answer to that.”

  “Of course she did. That wasn’t what she was asking me. Her concern was whether it would be ethical for her to confront Judge Woodard about what she knew.”

  I was dumbfounded for a moment. “Lizzie was considering confronting Judge Woodard about his gambling problem?”

  Dawson took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “That’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Foolish might be a better word.”

  “Oh, I agree, and that’s what I told her.”

  “What was her reaction?”

  “She seemed to agree with me—at least that’s what I thought—because she asked me what she should do instead. That’s when I suggested she tal
k with her father. She said she’d think about it, but she wouldn’t promise anything. I think she was hesitant because she didn’t want to tell him how she’d found out about the bank loan.”

  “But it was your impression she wasn’t going to contact the judge?”

  He rocked his hand back and forth. “I can’t be positive, but I’m pretty sure she knew that wasn’t such a good idea.”

  I found the note of uncertainty in Dawson’s voice very troubling.

  * * * *

  I did some quick calculation and realized I’d received the letter from Anonymous Concerned Citizen a few days after Lizzie had met with Dr. Dawson the second time.

  Was it possible Lizzie had written me the anonymous letter?

  I remember telling Nina the person who’d written me the letter sounded like a well-educated person who seemed to have a good grasp of the judiciary process. While that description certainly applied to Lizzie, it could apply to Dawson as well.

  “I’m glad you were able to talk Lizzie out of seeing the judge. That was a very wise move on your part, Dr. Dawson. Was that when you decided to write me an anonymous letter about Judge Woodard?”

  He tilted his head slightly to the left as if he didn’t quite understand the question. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “Did you or did you not write me an anonymous letter urging me to look into Judge Woodard’s gambling addiction?”

  “The answer is no,” he said, shaking his head. “That wasn’t me. I didn’t write you a letter about Judge Woodard.”

  “Could your student with the gambling problem have written the letter?”

  “No, I don’t think David would have done that.”

  “Your student’s real name is David?”

  “No. Forget you heard that,” he said, waving his hand back and forth in front of me. “If you received such a letter, it had to have come from Lizzie. When did the letter arrive at your office?”

  “It came in the regular mail a few days after you said you’d met with her the second time. The letter talked about the $50,000 gambling debt, and the writer claimed to have proof the judge had paid the debt with money from a home improvement loan.”

  He nodded. “That had to be Lizzie. I admit that surprises me, because when I saw her on Saturday, I got the impression she wasn’t going to pursue the gambling matter any further.”

  “Tell me about your meeting with Lizzie on Saturday night. How did that come about?”

  “She wanted to see me again, but this time, I suggested we meet in one of the study rooms in the Law Library. I didn’t think it was such a good idea for me to be seen having dinner with her again.”

  “Why?”

  He looked a little embarrassed. “Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy having dinner with attractive young ladies, but having dinner two weeks in a row with a female undergraduate student could ruin my reputation.”

  If Dawson hadn’t been so serious, I might have made a joke about his assertion, but he didn’t seem to be the joking type, so I said, “Tell me about your conversation with Lizzie on Saturday night.”

  “It was more like an interview than a conversation. She brought along her laptop and took notes.”

  “Does that mean you changed your mind about being interviewed for the article on Judge Woodard?”

  “No, and this wasn’t an interview. She was just asking me some questions.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Questions about the types of cases that come before the appellate courts, and how they differ from cases in the other courts.”

  “You didn’t discuss Judge Woodard?”

  “No, but she had me explain what responsibilities a judge has in appellate court hearings.”

  “Did Lizzie tell you why she wanted this information?”

  He nodded. “She wanted to use it as background material for her article on Judge Woodard’s nomination to the Court of Appeals.”

  “So she was going ahead with her article on the judge even though she had concerns about him?”

  “Yes, but she didn’t seem nearly as troubled about the judge as she had been the previous week.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “I just assumed it was because she’d talked things over with her father, and he promised to look into it.”

  “Are you saying she followed your advice and told the senator about the judge’s gambling problem?”

  Dawson looked up at the ceiling a moment. “Uh . . . no . . . she didn’t tell me exactly what she’d told him, but she definitely said she’d talked to Senator Allen.”

  The senator hadn’t mentioned any recent phone calls he’d had with Lizzie, and I made a mental note to ask him about it.

  “When you saw Lizzie on Saturday night, did she happen to tell you about her plans for Monday?”

  Dawson shook his head. “Not that I recall.”

  “Did she talk about getting together with you again?”

  “No. When I told her goodbye at the library, I wasn’t expecting her to call me again.”

  “Why was that?”

  He paused and thought for a moment. “Because I had a sense of closure. After she thanked me for helping her, she promised to let me know how things turned out, and I said something like I was looking forward to reading her article.”

  “So she indicated she’d completed her research, and she was ready to write the article?”

  He hesitated. “Well . . . when she promised to let me know how things turned out, that’s how I interpreted it. Do you think she meant something different?”

  “I certainly hope not.”

  * * * *

  When I left Hammon Hall, I noticed it was after four o’clock, but even though it was an hour later in Washington, I figured I’d still find Nina in her office.

  I wasn’t wrong.

  She picked up on the first ring.

  “How’d it go with Dawson?” she asked.

  “I’ll just put it this way. When I get back to my hotel—which should be in the next fifteen minutes or so—I’ll need to have a video conference call with you and Nathan.”

  “So you learned something from the professor?”

  “You’ll hear all about it when I brief Nathan. Can you set up the video call for us?”

  “Sure. Have you talked with Nathan recently?”

  “Not since this morning. Why? Has something happened?”

  “One of the cable news shows just led off their evening broadcast with a headline about Lizzie. It was something like ‘Lizzie Allen, daughter of Senator Davis Allen, has been missing from her campus apartment since Monday. Police are investigating.’ ”

  “I wonder who told them?”

  “You don’t need to wonder. I can give you a whole list of suspects.”

  Chapter 14

  As soon as I got back to my suite at the Broadway Hilton, I sat down at the desk in the living area and opened up the video conferencing program on my laptop.

  While I waited for Nina to come online, I grabbed the TV remote and flipped through the channels until I came to a news program.

  The talking heads were discussing the midterm elections, but it wasn’t long before I spotted a notice about Lizzie’s missing status on the news feed scrolling along the bottom of the screen.

  Before it came up again, I heard my computer ping, so I put the TV volume control on mute and sat down in front of my laptop.

  A few seconds later, I was viewing Nina and Lockett on a split screen. Lockett was at the conference table in his office, and Nina was seated behind her desk.

  “Nina tells me you’ve had a productive day,” Lockett said. “Does that mean you’re any closer to finding out what’s happened to Lizzie?”

  “I wouldn’t say I was any closer, but I know a lot more about Lizzie now than I did twenty-four hours ago.”

  Lockett nodded. “That’s good. In my experience, if you know someone well enough, you’re usually able to predict what they’ll do next. What did you lear
n about Lizzie that you didn’t already know?”

  “For one thing, I didn’t know she was obsessed with politics.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Lockett said, “Lizzie’s been interested in politics since high school. She may even run for office herself one day.”

  “What else did you learn about her?” Nina asked.

  “The main thing I discovered is that she has a tendency to keep people in the dark about what she’s doing. That includes her roommate Savannah and her boyfriend Gus.”

  “So you don’t think Gus knows anything about where Lizzie could be?” Lockett asked.

  “I could be wrong, but I don’t think he has a clue.”

  “That’s a shame. I was hoping you’d get some information out of him that would help you find Lizzie.”

  “I did get some information out of him. Whether or not it will help me find Lizzie is still up for debate, but what he told me was corroborated by everyone else I spoke with today.”

  “Bring me up to speed,” Lockett said, scribbling something down on a legal pad. “What did Gus tell you?”

  I quickly went over what Gus and I had discussed, including his suspicions that Lizzie was seeing someone else. Then, I described how he’d followed her over to the Law Library where he’d seen her interviewing a nerdy guy in one of the study rooms.

  Nina asked, “Did that interview have anything to do with the article Lizzie was writing on Judge Woodard?”

  Lockett looked surprised. “Did you say Lizzie was writing an article on Judge Woodard?”

  “I’m getting to that,” I said. “When I spoke to Dr. Richards, the managing editor of The Columbian, he told me Lizzie had requested permission to write a piece on the judge because of his tenure at the university. She wanted to personalize the article by interviewing a law professor at Mizzou who’d been a student of his. Naturally, once I heard that, I paid the professor a visit.”

  “What’s his name?” Lockett asked, continuing to take notes.

  “Wes Dawson. He specializes in ethics and constitutional law.”