The Future of My Past

by Veronica Faye

  “Did you hear the person on the other end of the call and were you able to identify that person?”

  “No, I never heard the person on the other end of the call.”

  “Then for all you know, she could have been talking to anyone on the phone. It didn’t have to be Barney Austin?”

  “True.”

  “Did you place the call to Barney Austin for her?”

  “No, but he was the one who ran the story, and I know she was paying someone.”

  “But you really don’t know who, do you?” I believed her story, but I was trying to cast some doubt. Maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to go to the police with what she knew. “Word on the street is that the first lady had a lover. Do you know anything about him? He may have been the one she was paying off.”

  “You have ears in this city, Attorney Jones.”

  “I’m paid to have ears in this city, Ms. Lightfoot. And to answer your question, this conversation stays between us. After all, you don’t have any tangible evidence that Tabitha Day bribed Barney Austin. I certainly won’t say anything since there isn’t anything to tell.”

  “You think that what I have to tell the police will hurt your friend, Dr. Earls. Is that why you are suggesting I not go to the police?”

  “You asked my advice; my advice is to say nothing because you really don’t know anything, at least not of the relationship between your first lady and Austin.”

  “There’s more. The night she was killed, I overheard her tell her lover that she was going to meet Barney Austin on the crosswalk.”

  Mattie saw my reaction and knew that the information startled me. I needed to hear this; she had been lured to the crosswalk to meet Barney Austin, who was probably dead at the time she arrived. Someone had lured her there, pretending to be Barney Austin. Dr. Rodney had received a call from Barney Austin asking him to meet him at the crosswalk, which meant that the killer deliberately set out to frame him. This was some information that I could give Griff to investigate, but I wanted to know more about this lover and pressed her for more information.

  “Did you hear other conversations between the two of them?”

  “They talked…I mean, she talked about the two of them running the studio once it was ready to open. She was planning to divorce the pastor and somehow gain the studio in the divorce settlement. She talked about how it would be a dream come true for them. They would both be in positions to leave their spouses.”

  “And you never said a word to Pastor Day about any of this?”

  “You have to understand, Attorney Jones. The pastor is a true man of God, and he is so focused on his work at the church that the thought of going to him with this mess wasn’t something I could bring myself to do.”

  “So, you protected him by not saying anything to him and were relying on God to fix things? Wasn’t there someone in the church that you could have confided in, and then the two of you go to him?”

  I was trying to make her feel the guilt for not revealing what she knew to the pastor, to keep her mouth shut until I could investigate Barney Austin. If I found out that he had been bribed by Tabitha, I would then advise her to go to the police. I was biding some time.

  “How do you think he would react now if you went to the police with what you just said to me? He is already dealing with the death of his wife. Could he take much more?” I knew she was no dummy. I also knew that she loved her pastor and would do anything to protect him. At least that is what I was banking on. “Ms. Lightfoot, give me a few days to look into what you have told me, and if I find out anything, as a friend of the court, I will have to report that a crime has been committed that may tie in with the murders. In the meantime, I would suggest that you talk with Pastor Day and let him know what may lie ahead for him. Once the press gets wind of the relationship between the first lady and Austin, the press is going to have a field day. Prepare him for that. And that is my advice to you.”

  She agreed to give me time to do my own investigation, and she would prepare the pastor for what lies ahead for him. We talked a bit more and she invited me to attend Sunday service. The pastor was going ahead as usual and preaching two sermons on Sunday. Something told me to accept her invitation. I felt it was something I had to do.

  As I was leaving, I got a call from Dr. Rodney. The police wanted to see him again and he wanted me to go with him. I told him that I would let Quinn know and for him to come to the office. Nobel would accompany him to the station, and I would remain in the background helping him in my own way. I made a call to Quinn to let him know about the meeting with the police and that Dr. Rodney would come to the office.

  He arrived shortly after I did and met with Quinn and Nobel. I did not attend the meeting. Instead, I placed a call to Griff and asked him to gain copies of Barney Austin’s bank and phone records. He knew how to obtain that information, and I never wanted to know how. I told him that Tabitha had told her lover that she was going to the crosswalk to meet Barney Austin, which meant that Dr. Rodney was framed. I also asked if he had any new information on Tabitha Day’s lover. He was still searching but promised that he could get copies of the bank records and have them to me at the same spot we met for our ‘discovery’ conference.

  Nobel returned to the office three hours later with news I was prepared to hear, but it still hurt me to the core. The police had named Dr. Rodney as the prime suspect for the murders of Tabitha Day and Barney Austin. They still had nothing to hold him, so an employee took him home. Nobel informed me that the police theory was that Dr. Rodney was upset about the suicide of Tracey Marshall and blamed the two victims for their role in her death. They believed that he lured Tabitha to the crosswalk and threw her onto the street to be killed. He had also, sometime before her murder, strangled Barney Austin and left his body in the field off Dr. Martin Luther King Drive, hoping that no one would discover the body. A neighbor of Austin saw a man meeting Dr. Rodney’s height and build leaving Austin’s home from the garage. He was driving Austin’s car but did not see Austin. The neighbor said that he did not think anything about it—Austin was always letting people drive his car—until the police came to his door asking him questions. The fact that he was at the crosswalk when the first lady was killed only added to the evidence the police were gathering.

  What they didn’t have were fiber samplings from Tabitha Day’s murder scene. Apparently, she had grabbed some fiber from the coat of the murderer. They would be testing the coats of Dr. Rodney when they retrieved them from his home. A search warrant had been issued and they were at the home now, gathering his coats for comparison of the materials found in Tabitha’s hand.

  They were also looking for the gloves that the killer used to strangle Barney Austin. They were sure that he used gloves. There were fibers from the gloves on his neck.

  “We should get their discovery in a few days; in the meantime, I have a lot of work to do,” Nobel said. “I hope that I can ask for your help with this. I know that officially you are not on this case, but as his friend, I feel that I can count on you to help.”

  “His wife is flying back from Africa today. He will need all the support he can get. Miss Aurelia is a strong woman, but I don’t know how she is going to take the news that there will be no bail should he be arrested. Let me deal with her and the people who work for him. I can offer support to them and at least explain to them what is being done to defend him.”

  Nobel expressed her apprehension in representing Dr. Rodney, but I assured her that both Quinn and I had faith in her ability. I would be working behind the scenes and Quinn would make all the major decisions on how we were going to proceed with his defense.

  On the way home my thoughts were with Dr. Rodney and Pastor Day. Two men whose commitment to serving others had put them at opposite sides again. One was fighting to maintain his life, the other was fighting to keep his.

  The story about the murders and the n
aming of Dr. Rodney as the prime suspect appeared in most of the northwest Indiana and Chicago papers. It made the evening news on all the major channels, and there was also a story that appeared in one of the area magazines.

  I received several phone calls from reporters asking if I had a comment to make and if I would be defending the man I said was my mentor. I repeatedly said “no comment.”

  I was able to meet with Miss Aurelia and the agency employees and give them as much information about the case as I was allowed. Dr. Rodney had chosen to stay at home that day. The strain of the investigation had been hard for him and he had experienced chest pains. I told them that if Dr. Rodney were arrested, Indiana law didn’t permit people charged with first-degree murder to be released on bail. I also informed them that because of my relationship with Dr. Rodney, although it had been years, I felt it would be better if another one of the partners represented him if the time came, and that Nobel was a very competent attorney. I had my eyes and ears open and was working behind the scenes. The truth was that I wanted to stay in the background; I needed to stay in the background. With less pressure, the chances of my having a setback were lessened. I needed to stay alert and strong, and staying in the background and working things from my end gave me the freedom to think outside the box. If I were the official representative, I would have to play by the rules and be careful about how I crossed lines, if there were lines to cross.

  In the position I placed myself, there was only one rule: I had to help Quinn and Nobel win. As Malcolm put it, “by any means necessary.”

  I was at home several hours later when the phone rang. I was surprised to hear Maceo’s voice on the other end.

  “I know you’re calling to discuss the case; Nobel Cummings is representing him.”

  “I know, Gemini, but that is not why I called. Do you remember Harold Cartier?”

  I remembered him as one of the officers who was investigating the David Ban case. I relayed this to Maceo.

  “I went to see him today. He’s in the hospital and he is terminal. He won’t last the week, according to the doctors. But he wants to see you.”

  “I can’t imagine why he would want to see me, Maceo, but I’ll go and see him tomorrow if I’m allowed.”

  “You are on the list of people that he wants to see. The nursing station will be expecting you. If I were you, I’d go as early as possible. Visitation starts at 8 a.m. He’s at Community Hospital in Munster.”

  “Do you have any idea why he wants to see me, Maceo?”

  “He told me he wanted to get his affairs in order, and that you were part of that. That is all I could get out of him.”

  I assured him I would go the next morning for a visit. I hung up, talking myself into waiting until the next morning, but curiosity got the best of me and I placed a call to Community and asked for his room. The person answering the phone told me that he was asleep, and when I identified myself, I was told that I was speaking to his son. He told me that his father really needed to talk with me, and that he would not leave this world until it happened. He told me he felt that talking with me was the only thing keeping his father alive.

  I got up the next day, fed the dogs and let them out for their morning romp. I called Antoinette at home and told her that I would be late. I got dressed, let the dogs in, and raced out the house for my meeting with Detective Cartier.

  I arrived at Community Hospital twenty minutes later. It is a big hospital, and it took me several minutes to find a parking place. I made my way to the front desk and asked for the room number of Harold Cartier. His room was located on the eighth floor, and once I got to the nurse’s station, I informed them that I was here to see him; they were expecting me.

  I entered the room and saw him lying in his bed. A man was asleep in a chair, but he woke up when he heard me enter the room. He introduced himself as Rodger Cartier and said that his father was eager to talk with me. His father was dying of cancer, but he had withheld pain medication because he wanted to be coherent when he talked with me. He walked over to the bed and told his father I was there.

  Illness had aged him twenty years, but there was something in his eyes that led me to believe that he still had a sound mind.

  “Attorney Jones, thanks for coming to see me. I hope I haven’t taken you from something pressing, but I wanted, no, I needed to talk with you.”

  “It’s okay, Detective, I didn’t have anything to do today that would keep me from seeing you,” I replied.

  He motioned for me to come closer and then asked his son to leave the room.

  “Do you know why I called you here today?” he asked.

  “I can only guess that it has something to do with the David Ban case. But you remember that the case was closed. Savannah Wooten confessed to the crime.”

  “I know Savannah Wooten did not kill David Ban. She was protecting someone, she and Ruthann Lawson.”

  I thought that my knees would buckle, but I remained calm and let him talk.

  “Omar Robinson was the prosecutor at the time, you remember. Well, he was battling his own illness at the time and really wasn’t up to doing his job. That is why he was satisfied when Ms. Wooten confessed to the crime on her death bed and closed the case. He resigned shortly afterwards because he was battling leukemia. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were not adding up about this case. I guess it’s just the old cop in me. So, I went to interview the two witnesses who stated that they saw your friend with the gun. Benjamin Issacs, the first witness we questioned, admitted that he hadn’t seen Ms. Wooten drop the gun. He’d been too busy trying to find cover. But it was the other witness Dora Jefferson’s information that helped me conclude that she didn’t pull the trigger. She said that she saw Ms. Wooten knock the gun out of someone’s hand and that she saw a young man running away from the crowd, and that when the police arrived, the gun was at Savannah’s feet. She thought at first that the young man had knocked the gun out of Ms. Wooten’s hand, but the more she went over it in her mind, the more she was convinced that it was the other way around.”

  I was shocked at what he had just revealed to me. But I couldn’t understand why he didn’t pursue the case to find the truth.

  I asked him why he’d dropped the investigation.

  “Because Ruthann asked me to, and Ms. Wooten had made a deathbed confession; as far as the prosecutor was concerned, the case was closed.”

  “Why would you help Ruthann? And why would you let Savannah take the blame for a crime she didn’t commit?” I was trying to keep my composure, but I felt my emotions taking over. My demons were coming for a visit, and I couldn’t stop them.

  “Because Ruthann and I were lovers, Attorney Jones. I loved her and would do anything for her. I knew she wasn’t involved with the other crooked cops; she went into the evidence room and stole the gun we retrieved from the crime scene. She said it was to help someone and that she and Savannah were ready to put their lives on the line. I know it was to protect someone, but she never said who. I know that David Ban was tied up in some nasty shit, mainly trafficking young girls. But he had some very powerful people behind him who were willing to cover up his crimes. They had him in their pockets and were prepared to use him if he won the governor’s race.”

  He lay back in his bed and sighed. That had taken its toll on him, but I felt that there was more that he wanted to tell me. I sat in the chair trying not to let him see that I was shaking all over and waited for him to begin the conversation again. My memory about the case was coming back and a lot of things that I couldn’t explain at the time now started to make sense. For one, that explained why there was no gun residue on Savannah’s hands. I realized that Ruthann had only gone to retrieve the gun and somehow the police had linked her to the case involving the crook cops. I wanted to get up and run, but I knew I had to wait until he finished.

  “Attorney Jones, you still here?” I walked o
ver to him and took his hand to let him know I was. I hope he couldn’t feel the trembling in my hand.

  “I don’t know who they were protecting, but whoever it was should be grateful for those two. I can understand why they did what they did. I’m a cop, but I would do the same thing for someone I loved. That is why I didn’t pursue the case for Ruthann. I still love her to this day. My wife and children don’t know anything about us. I’d like to keep it that way. But if you see her, tell her that her secret will die with me. Tell her that I have never stopped loving her and that I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help her.” He closed his eyes and I knew he was through talking.

  I left the room as calmly as possible, said goodbye to his son, hoping he hadn’t noticed the shear panic in my face, went back to the nurse’s station and made my way to the elevator. I was beginning to lose control. My world was crashing down around me, and I had to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible….

  I don’t remember making my way to the parking lot, retrieving my car, and driving away, but on my way home the panic gripped me to the point that I had to pull over and gather myself. The tears would not stop flowing. It wasn’t Ruthann’s son Milton they were protecting. He was devoted to Mamie Wells, and it was that devotion to her that made him shoot me. I knew who they were trying to protect. The only other person they knew that hated David Ban as much as Savannah did.

  The panic set in and I lost control… My God, Savannah, what did you and Ruthann do? I’m an officer of the court, I must report this! You did this for Enoch, it was all for Enoch, my son. You went to your grave labeled a murderer for my son, my son! Ruthann, you ruined your life to protect my son!

  I AM AN OFFICER OF THE COURT; I HAVE TO TELL THE AUTHORITIES THAT A CRIME HAS BEEN COMMITTED! BUT MY SON, MY SON, I HAVE TO PROTECT MY SON. MY GOD, SAVANNAH AND RUTHANN, WHAT DID YOU DO?

  I’ll call Antoinette and have her pick me up. I CAN’T CALL HER, I CAN’T TALK WITH ANYONE, I’M AN OFFICER OF THE COURT, AN OFFICER OF THE COURT, AN OFFICER OF THE COURT! HOW DO I TURN IN MY SON, OH GOD HOW, DO I TURN IN MY OWN SON!