by J J Miller
The unsuspecting Ford was under the impression that Jack wanted to test drive a double cab Tacoma, and Ford, who had some keys hanging from his right hand, was only too happy to oblige.
I’d waited in the car yard. As Jack and Ford stood by the test-drive truck discussing specs, I approached.
Ford was clearly not pleased to see me. He knew exactly who I was. He knew my name, he knew the sound of my voice, he knew my fashion sense, he knew if I’d cut myself shaving. I was part of the slow-moving drama that he’d watched like a one-channel TV set, for days on end.
“Mr. Madison, I’m with a customer,” he said. “If you just go on inside, Tom can help you with whatever you need.”
Ford smiled with the hope that, by some extraordinary coincidence, I’d actually dropped in to talk Toyotas.
“It’s okay, Henry. Jack here’s with me. And I’m not here to buy a car.”
“This is not right,” Ford said, flustered. “It’s not legal. You can’t be approaching jurors after the verdict.”
“That’s not true, actually. If Judge Birch had expressly disallowed post-trial interviews with jurors, you might have a point. But he didn’t. All I want to do is ask you a few questions.”
“What for?”
“Due diligence, Henry. I lost. And I don’t like losing. You can understand that. So I need to know if there’s anything I can improve for next time.”
“You did fine, Mr. Madison. The verdict was not a reflection on your performance. You shouldn’t take it personally.”
I nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I do tend to take things personally. I should move on but, like I said, I can get stuck on things. Can’t let them lie. My secretary actually tells me to my face that I’m too obsessive.”
“Maybe she’s right. But look, I really can’t do this now. I’ve just gotten back to work, and I need to make up for lost time.”
I ignored him.
“Man, you guys whipped through that deliberation like you all had a train to catch,” I said. “I’ve never known a jury to reach a decision so quickly.”
“I guess it was fast.”
“Fast? It was extraordinary.”
Ford was caught between the hope of seeing me off with chit-chat and the dread of knowing I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I said. “And I mean that quite literally. Never in all my years have I seen a turnaround like that.”
Ford put up his hands. “Look, Mr. Madison. I don’t want to do this. I don’t have to. I want to put the trial behind me and get on with my life. I did my duty. I’m done with it now. It’s over.”
“Not for me, it’s not. Something’s not right, Henry. What happened in there?”
“Look, I can’t stand around talking, or my boss is going to chew my ass.”
I gestured to the truck. “Let’s go for a test drive then. Ten minutes, Henry. We’ll take her for a spin, have a little chat, and then we’re out of here.”
Ford let out a big breath and then lifted up the keys and pressed the remote unlock. “Okay. Hop in.”
With Jack driving the Tacoma and Ford in the passenger seat, I positioned myself behind Jack.
“Henry, I’m not going to cry if you tell me I screwed up. I just want to know how I managed to lose this case so big, so fast.”
“Yeah, well maybe if you’d done a better job, Chip would be walking free right now.”
“Are you seriously telling me it wasn’t even close? Henry, I was defending a man who’s now going to die in prison. I’m not worried about a stain on my resume. What could I have done better?”
Ford shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Surely, you guys had some doubts you needed to work through in that deliberation room.”
Ford said nothing. He looked out the window.
“I just struggle to understand how there was no hesitation whatsoever. I mean, sorry, but that was brutal.”
Ford’s right elbow was propped on the door frame, his fingers pinching his lower lip.
“I thought he was guilty, okay?” he said defensively. “I mean, his gun was the murder weapon. They were shot so close. Your story was the one that seemed more made up. Sorry, but that’s the truth.”
“Okay. I understand that. Thank you for your honesty. But, as I made clear in court, my story was not the stuff of fantasy. That kind of shit happened all too often overseas, by the likes of Hendricks and Reed. Chip wasn’t like that, Henry. And something tells me you know that.”
Ford took another deep breath and blew it out with an audible whistle.
“You were always up against it, Mr. Madison.”
“What do you mean?”
“There were two jurors who were never going to acquit. We all knew that from the outset.”
“What? Before deliberations even started?”
Ford nodded. “We all knew the rules. You know, that we were not to discuss the case with anyone. And these two guys were talking to everyone about how it was a slam-dunk case of murder and that we needed to put justice for the victims’ families above all else.”
“None of you should have been discussing the case with anyone until you got to the deliberation room.”
“I know. I know,” said Ford. “And when I said something about us being obliged to keep an open mind, things started to happen.”
“What things?”
“Shit, Mr. Madison. They fucking followed me. I had my kids and they were following me.”
“Who followed you?”
Ford rubbed his hand over his mouth as though his body was telling his mind to shut up. “Bikers,” he said. “They tailed me, right after I picked my kids up from school. All the way home. I mean, they scared the shit out of me. And then they started with the calls. Always the same guy, same message. ‘Henry, it’s either guilty or you’re dead.’ Then he’d hang up.”
“Were the bikers Iron Raiders?”
“I couldn’t tell you. I’ve got no idea.”
“So now there were three of you advocating for a guilty verdict?”
“That’s right. But to be honest, there was not much persuading that needed to be done. Like me, most of the other jurors were leaning toward guilty.”
I tapped Jack on the shoulder. “Jack, take us back to the lot.”
Ford swung around and fixed his pleading eyes on me. “Mr. Madison, you can’t say anything. They’ll kill me.”
I paused for a few moments. “Henry, what you’ve just told me is pure jury misconduct, not to mention tampering. And that will almost certainly give me grounds to have the verdict impeached. But don’t you worry, I’m not going to come back to you until I’ve dealt with the men who threatened you, do you understand?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Madison.”
Jack turned the truck into the Hollywood Toyota and pulled up outside the glass entrance doors.
“Henry, I’m going to need the names of those other two jurors,” I said.
Again, Henry struggled to think his way out, but he’d lost the resolve to resist. He bowed his head. “I only know their first names. It was Rhett, number six, and Landon, number ten.”
Jack cut the engine.
“Thanks, Henry,” I said. “Now, I don’t know when exactly but I’ll be coming back to see you. And when I do, I’m going to get you to sign an affidavit that says what you just told me. And that’s going to help me set my client free. Okay?”
Ford shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, Henry. You can,” I said. “And you will.”
We all got out of the Tacoma, and Jack and I walked straight to my car without another word to Ford.
“Well, that went well,” Jack to me as we got into the Mustang. “You’ve got what you need for an appeal now, right?”
“Yes, what I’ll have is reason to overturn the verdict on the grounds of jury misconduct. But that doesn’t mean it’s enough.”
“How so?”
“Winter will oppose the appeal. He’ll have
his own affidavits that will most likely discredit Ford.”
“So what now?”
I got behind the wheel and Jack took the passenger seat. I had my phone out, trying to find the document I was after. Within a minute, I had it: the records from jury selection. It contained the names and other details that the prospective jurors had given when they completed their qualification forms.
“These are the guys,” I said. “Rhett Botula and Landon Chapel. I’ll send you the document with their details.”
“You want me to go see them?”
“Yeah. I need to know exactly who leaned on them. I need you to not just get an admission but a positive ID.”
“Do you have some candidates in mind?”
“Yes. I’ll send you a pic of Rollins for you to show them.”
I tapped away at my phone until I’d sent everything Jack needed. Then I started the car.
“And what are you going to do?” asked Jack.
“I’m going to go pay Rollins a visit.”
“Rollins? Why the hell would you go and see Rollins?”
“The trial’s done and Chip’s off to jail as far as he’s concerned. His insurance payout is all but assured now. And my bet is he thinks it’s back to business as usual.”
“And you intend to tell him otherwise, I take it?”
“You’ve got that right. If he thinks he can just sail off into the sunset, he’s got another thing coming. He’s heading for an iceberg. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Chapter 47
The Santa Monica Pier was teeming with its usual summer afternoon crowd of people ambling between tourist stalls and street performers. A guy selling his own CDs tried to stop me but I brushed straight past him, my eyes scanning ahead as far as I could into the distance. There was a big swell, and the sound of crashing waves mingled with the screams of delight coming from the roller coaster.
At last, I spotted him. Seeing me approach, Quinn Rollins turned his back against the railing and cast an instinctive eye behind me to see if I had company.
“It’s just me, Rollins,” I assured him as I stopped before him.
When I’d called Rollins earlier in the day, he’d refused to meet me. He was happy to rub my nose in the fact that I’d lost the trial, that my faith in Chip had been stupidly misplaced, and that he could now move on with his business. “Go back to your cafe breakfasts,” he laughed, his voice thick with hubris. “You and I have nothing to discuss.” That was when I told him that Henry Tuck had made Fern Ortega the executor of his will, and that she’d asked me to handle the probate. Fern was only too happy for me to put the process on ice until the trial ended. That point had now been reached, and I intended to get Tuck’s money out of HardShell immediately.
“Why do you want to interfere with my business, Madison? It’s over. You lost. I’m happy to negotiate a time-frame for releasing Henry’s money, but I urge you not to push me.”
“I’m not here to negotiate, Rollins,” I said. “I’m taking Henry’s money out without delay, and if it’s not there then I’m taking your business down. And my guess is that will give Bravo the perfect opportunity to take HardShell’s place. There’ll be no comeback for you.”
“I don’t take kindly to threats, Madison. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“I’m pretty clear about who I’m dealing with. You’re a murderer and drug trafficker. You had Henry killed to avoid paying him out. That’s what kind of man you are.”
Rollins laughed. “Madison, I didn’t expect you to be so pathetic. You lost the trial, fair and square. Chip tried to steal from me and he killed two of my men in the process, and now you want to try and take your anger out on me?”
“Fair and square? You threatened half the jury to make sure that Chip was convicted.”
“Is this a joke? Jesus, Madison. Take it on the chin. Go and appeal, like you said you would on the news. Just get the fuck out of my face or, mark my words, you’re a dead man.”
“You rigged the jury to make sure Chip took the fall for a robbery that you set up.”
Rollins laughed. “Wow. Really, Madison? I must admit, I’m surprised. You need to take some time off. Get some rest. Because you are delusional. Why would I set up the robbery?”
“To double your money with the insurance payout. And you framed Chip because he was onto your illegal activity.”
Rollins shrugged. “What illegal activity are you talking about? Everything I handle is above board.”
“Of course, it is. Like the meth you run for the Iron Raiders, and the meth you’re cooking up at Toro Canyon.”
Rollins shook his head like he was doing a double take on what I’d just said.
“I’m running meth now, am I?”
“Yes. I saw the lab with my own eyes.”
Rollins looked hard into my eyes. I could almost see the wheels of his brain spinning. I figured he was contemplating when and how he was going to kill me and dispose of my body.
“You’ve seen my lab, have you?” he hissed. “The fucking DEA raided my property on some bullshit warrant and found nothing. Zero. Nada. It was all just an effort by David McClean to try and damage my company. He’s like you, Madison. A spiteful, jealous man who blames me for his failures.”
“I was there. I saw it.”
Rollins’ eyes narrowed. “You were at my property?”
“Yes. I’ve got video of your operation. Your goons shot my investigator.”
“That was you?”
“That was me.”
“You’re shitting me?”
“No. Those assholes who work for you chased us down the road and shot up our truck.”
“Is that right?”
It was like Rollins had taken a mental departure. The animosity he’d been projecting at me had seeped away. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was intrigued by what I was telling him.
“So, let me get this straight, Madison. You think I framed Chip because he suspected my company was running illegal drugs. You think I planned the robbery to get the insurance. And, what was that you said about Henry? You think I killed him?”
“You had him killed.”
“Henry killed himself, Madison. He got a Dear John text and put a bullet through his brain. It had nothing to do with me.”
“Your guys forced Henry’s girlfriend to send that text. They took her phone so he couldn’t speak to her. Then they paid Henry a visit. And they made it look like a suicide. Because they were good at doing that sort of thing, weren’t they, Rollins?”
“Who?”
“Reed and Hendricks. And my guess is that’s why you killed them at the robbery. You didn’t need them any more. They’d become a liability.”
“Look Madison,” Rollins said calmly. “When you feel we can have a conversation without you making baseless allegations, then we can arrange the release of Henry’s money. And if you can’t do that, then you should let someone else handle Henry’s probate.”
As Rollins turned and walked away, a cloud of sea spray whipped across the pier. Everyone ducked to shield their faces but Rollins didn’t react at all. He just kept walking with his hands dug into his jacket pockets.
I felt my phone buzz. I had the screen in front of me in an instant. Jack was calling.
“How’d it go?” I asked.
“Do I ever not deliver? I got what you wanted. Both of them gave me the same story.”
“You got a positive ID?”
“Yep.”
“You showed him the photo of Rollins?”
“No. I didn’t have to.”
“How come?”
“They said the guy who threatened them was in court. They knew exactly who it was. He was a witness.”
“Yeah, Rollins was a witness. I’ve just had it out with him. He denied everything.”
“No. They weren’t talking about Rollins.”
“Who were they talking about?”
“Scooter Slovak.”
Jack’s words floored me. �
��What?”
“Scooter Slovak. He was the one who put the fear of God into these guys. Threatened all kinds of shit.”
My mind was racing.
Scooter? How did this make sense? Was Rollins being straight with me just now? Did he really have no idea about any of it? And if that’s the case…
“Jack, how long do you reckon it takes to set up a meth lab?”
“No more than a day. A matter of hours, if you really know what you’re doing.”
“Then it’s possible Rollins had no idea about the lab. And he actually believes Bravo tipped off the DEA. Hell, Jack. I’ve got it all wrong. Listen, you have to tell those two guys to take cover. They need to gather up their families and lay low until we give them the all clear. I’m not kidding. Slovak will be mopping up now and they’re on his to-do list.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll call you later.”
I hung up the phone and raced toward the shore to try and catch Rollins. As I ran my eyes over the car lot, I caught sight of him. When I yelled out his name, he stopped and turned. I held up my arm for him to wait, then raced as fast as I could.
“Rollins,” I said, between trying to catch my breath. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I thought there was no way you didn’t know what was going on.”
Rollins held up his right palm. “I understand, Madison. Believe me, I do. Actually, I’m indebted to you for our conversation just now.”
“You know.”
“It just clicked then, while we were talking. The person I trusted the most has deceived me to a degree I cannot even fathom. I thought the lab raid was all nonsense, but you say there was actual equipment there?”
“Yes. We got video of it. And we saw your men loading meth into a truck.”
“So what Chip told me was true. They were handling illegal drugs with my vans. Scooter Slovak. That deceitful son-of-a-bitch. He must be aiming to take over my company.”
“Aiming to? I think it’s pretty much done a done deal. Reed and Hendricks? I’m guessing now that they were Scooter’s dogs, not yours. Who knows who else he has on a lead at HardShell? And if you’ve allowed him to run whatever it is you’ve got going with the Iron Raiders, then they’re not on your side either. All he has to do now is take you out. You’ll be just another body buried up in Humboldt County.”
