Dark Justice

by Sinclair, Rachel

  “Yeah, but the site moderator allows that kind of graphic posting to stand? I mean, I know that particular sub-Reddit, and the guys on there are a bunch of weirdos who write fucked-up fantasies, but nothing quite like that. It seems to be too over-the-top to be real.” He shrugged. “Then again, the timing of it goes against you. Like you said, Addison went missing the day that this message was posted. Even if there was reporting going on and the administrator of the sub-Reddit got involved, it probably was after Addison went missing and your client was already under suspicion. Your guy, your computer hacker, what’s his name?”

  “Chris Warford. He admitted that he spoofed Carter and wrote those message because he was paid $50,000 to do it by an anonymous source.”

  “Chris Warford,” Declan said. “He was careful to plant this message close enough to the actual disappearance that it seems pretty legit. I mean, obviously, if this message was dated like a month before Addison’s disappearance, it wouldn’t seem legit at all. The cops would have long since gotten involved and he would have been kicked off that site for something like that. But since it was posted so close to Addison’s actual disappearance, it can be explained that the cops and the administrator didn’t know about these messages and just became aware of them after Addison went missing. Pretty clever of him to do it like that.”

  “Well, that’s why that kid gets paid the big bucks,” I said. “Because he thinks about those details. Anyhow, here’s the message that was posted on August 22, the day after Addison’s disappearance.”

  I took care of that bitch, Addison Wentworth, and she fucking liked it. I raped her with my knife and then I slit her throat. She bled all over her bedroom like a stuck pig. So, I thought it was appropriate that I go ahead and feed her to the pigs. Ain’t nobody ever gonna find her body, because the pigs ate her on a farm up in Northern Cali. Her body ain’t never gonna be found because there’s nothing left to find.

  Declan read that message and shook his head. “All this shit is just too on the nose, you know that I mean? I mean, who does that? Telegraph to the world that you’re going to kill somebody, and then tell the world that you did it after the fact?”

  Then he smiled. “Just kidding. I know that lots of people do that. I had a client myself who did that, back when I practiced criminal defense. But if it were me, I would try to discredit those messages as being too obvious. Even if you can’t prove that they were spoofed by that Chris guy, which you probably won’t be able to, because if you ask him on the stand about what he did, he’ll just lie, and, trust me, guys like him are excellent at covering their tracks, I would go ahead and tell the jury that these messages are the products of a really deranged mind. If your client is a nice, normal guy, the jury won’t be able picture him writing such vile things.” He shrugged. “Just a thought about how I would approach it.”

  I smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Would you like to second-chair this trial? Assuming it goes to trial, of course. I could certainly use a good back-up quarterback on this. And it will certainly bring you some good publicity.”

  “You got it,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll be your wing-man, sure. I hate to admit it, but I really like these show trials. Are cameras going to be allowed in the courtroom?”

  “I’m going to do all I can to keep them out, but trust me, there’s going to be enough publicity about this case that it’s not going to really matter if the cameras are in the courtroom or not. I’m also going to try to get the word out to the media about my client. I don’t suppose you have any media contacts who would be willing to report nice things about Carter without naming the sources in the article?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Declan said, nodding his head. “I got all kinds of contacts who I can plant stories with. Whether or not the stories are true. I also got lots of contacts who will kill damaging stories before they see the light of day. Trust me, you’re going to love having me on your team.”

  As I looked at his blue eyes and dimples, I thought that I certainly would love having him on my team.

  But not necessarily for the reasons that he probably thought.

  Chapter 20

  I went down to Devon’s office on the 30th Floor, right at 3 PM. It was a suite much like mine, with high ceilings and hardwood floors and lots of Oriental throw-rugs. On the wall of the lobby was high-end artwork, and the receptionist sat behind a space-age-looking glass table that was sitting on top of a geometric-patterned hand-knitted rug. She looked up at me when I came in, and smiled broadly. Her teeth were perfect, as were all of her features. She looked, for all the world, like one of the many young women who worked part-time jobs while they feverishly went on auditions in their spare time.

  “You must be Emerson,” she said, standing up and holding out her hand. “Mr. McDaniel is expecting you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, helping myself to some cucumber water that was dispensed in an enormous glass container next to the plush leather couch.

  She walked out from behind her desk. “Follow me,” she said, walking towards the back of the suite of offices. “Mr. McDaniel is in the corner office.”

  She opened up the door to Devon’s office, and I knew, the second that I saw that office, that I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this guy. He obviously was a big-deal in that firm, and, as such, he didn’t get to where he was by squealing on his clients.

  His office was enormous, easily three times the size of my own. He had paintings on the wall that easily sold for millions, as they were painted by some of the hottest young artists in the city, including Mark Bradford, an artist who recently sold one of his paintings for $12 million. His desk was solid and built of oak, and there was everything in that office from a small koi pond to a bubbling brook in the corner.

  Devon smiled at me when I walked through the door and motioned to the koi pond and the brook. “Relaxes me,” he said. “And God knows I need to relax in this job. Anyhow, what can I do for you?”

  I sat down, feeling more comfortable than I did right before I got into this office. He seemed to be a friendly-enough guy. He was dressed down in a pair of khaki shorts and a pink button-down Oxford shirt. He was tall, about 6’4”, and gangly. He looked like he should have been a golf-pro or even a caddy. He seemed just a little bit out of place in such a luxurious and sumptuous surrounding.

  I cleared my throat. “I need to inquire about an LLC that you manage. You’re listed as the agent. The name of the LLC is Angel Eyes Incorporated.”

  He nodded his head. “Yeah. Angel Eyes is an appropriate name for that particular LLC. If you’ve ever seen The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, you’ll get the reference.”

  “You mean that it’s a criminal enterprise?” I asked him. “Or a front for a criminal enterprise?” I knew that the character of Angel Eyes in that movie was a hardened and sadistic criminal who went to enormous lengths to try to get access to a fortune in gold that was buried in a cemetery.

  He shook his head. “Nothing so obvious as that. Anyhow, what do you need to know about Angel Eyes?”

  “What do you mean, nothing so obvious as that?” I asked him. He left a cryptic clue and then blew it off. I wondered what his game was.

  “I mean, nothing so obvious as that. Listen, maybe you can figure out who is behind that LLC from that little clue, but you’re going to have to figure it out on your own, because there’s no way that I’m ever going to tell you directly the reason why I decided to call this LLC Angel Eyes. And, no, there’s no way that I’m ever going to reveal to you who the owner is of the corporation. I formed it for an anonymous client who shall remain anonymous, no matter how much you think that you’re going to get me to reveal who it is.” He smiled. “And that is the reason why you’re here, isn’t it? You want to know who formed that corporation because you want to know who was kind enough to start a Go Fund Me page for your client and start it with a $5 million donation? Am I getting warmer?”

  I nodded my head, thinking hard about the Angel Eyes reference. I wondered i
f the clue was in the movie itself, or maybe it had something to do with the actor, Lee Van Cleef. Or maybe something else. He said that it wasn’t as obvious as assuming that the LLC was criminal, because the character of Angel Eyes was into crime. Was he trying to tell me that I had a chance of discovering who his client was if I could just put the reference together? “Yes. That is the reason why I’m here. I need to know who donated that money to my client.”

  He leaned back in his chair, casually regarding me. I noticed that his hair stuck up in the back, and he had a slight cowlick on the front of his bangs. He jerked his head slightly to the right, as if he was trying to get a non-existent lock of hair off his face. “And what does it matter to you? I’m genuinely curious about that. It was a generous thing for my client to do. Because of my client’s generosity, your client was able to bond out of jail and pay your fee. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and be grateful for my client’s generosity.”

  “I need to know who donated that money because no disinterested party is going to do something like that. I think that you know as well as I do that nobody does something like that without some kind of motive. I think that if I found out who did that, it’ll unlock the keys to the case.”

  He nodded his head. “Oh, you think so, do you? What kind of theory are you working on about that money?”

  “That it was the real killer who donated it. The real killer, who was trying to relieve his guilty conscience by making sure that my client was able to obtain the best representation possible and that he wouldn’t have to spend any time in jail awaiting trial. That’s who I suspect might have donated that money.”

  At that, Devon burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re a funny one. You really are. You really think that the real killer would do something like that? Only a fool would do that if they’re actually the one that did Addison Wentworth. Listen, for the actual killer, it would be to their advantage if the person accused of this crime is dirt poor and can’t afford good representation. It would be an even better advantage if the guy was forced to stay in jail while he awaits trial. You know as well as I do that a defendant will have a tougher time mounting a good defense if he’s being bars than if he’s at home, able to call his attorney any time of the day or night, while accessing the Internet to do as much research on his case as he can. Listen, I know what you’re saying. I understand that you have a much less cynical view of the criminal mind than I do. But, trust me on this, the person who opened up this LLC didn’t do it because he or she is the actual killer of Addison Wentworth. That theory just doesn’t make any damned sense.”

  I drew a breath, feeling frustrated. He was right, of course. The actual killer was going to be relieved that somebody else was on the hook for his dastardly deed, and he certainly wasn’t going to help that fall guy mount a decent defense. But if the killer wasn’t the one who opened up the LLC, then who was it? Some random person who felt sorry for Carter? I would think that the person was doing it for publicity, but that obviously wasn’t a good motive, either. If he or she did it for publicity, then they certainly wouldn’t be going through all these lengths to keep their donation a secret.

  “Okay, then, I guess that what you’re saying makes sense. But there must be some other reason behind the donation. I think that you know what that reason is, too.”

  He nodded his head. “Oh, I do. I do know the reason why this person opened up the LLC and organized the Go Fund Me. It’s a good reason, too. A very good reason. But I’ll leave it at that. You can try to subpoena me, but good luck with that - you’re going to have to show good cause, and there’s no way that you can show that. And, if you’re going to want me to attend a deposition, you won’t be able to show the judge that a deposition is warranted in this case. I don’t plan on leaving the country any time soon, and I will be available for trial. So, it looks like you’re stuck. I would just leave it at that.”

  Frustrated, I decided just to go ahead and leave. “Okay, then. Thanks for your help.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm, but I didn’t really care.

  He just shrugged. “Sorry. I’m not going to play. Renata will show you out.”

  I left, knowing that I wasn’t much closer than I was before trying to figure everything out, but I at least I had a clue.

  I was going to have to study The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

  Chapter 21

  Michael - August 20, The day before Addison went missing.

  “You need to go over there,” Violet told her husband. The two of them were sitting in their living room, cuddled up under a blanket with a pot of hot tea that they were sharing. “To Addison’s house. Tout de suite.”

  Michael looked at Violet, wondering what the hell she was thinking. He often wondered that about his wife. She was the shrewd one of the two of them. Her mind was devious, much more devious than his own. He relied on her, truth be told, to get him out of scrapes.

  He knew the reason why she was more than willing to help him out when he needed her. It had nothing to do with her concern for his welfare, and everything to do with concern for her own. He knew that she was using him to get to where she wanted to go. It had always been so. That was fine with him, too. He used her right back, for various reasons. Before they met, he had done a background check on her and found that her father was not only extraordinarily wealthy but was also a well-connected man. He was a man who had senators in his back pocket at all times. He had been a lobbyist for various conservative groups over the years, so he knew the ins and outs of Washington. He didn’t even care that his future son-in-law was a Democrat. He was the kind who genuinely was interested in making sure that Michael had the best contacts for what he wanted to do.

  That was initially the reason why Michael wanted to date Violet, but he stayed with her for her sharp and devious mind. He knew that he was prone to getting into trouble, usually because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Violet was the one who suggested that he partner with the owner of a tawdry but popular and influential tabloid. She introduced Michael to Sonny Mancino, who was the owner of The Global Examiner, a supermarket magazine that used to run stories about Big Foot and Elvis sightings and alien abductions, but had eventually graduated to reporting on celebrities and politicians. He got to know the owner of that magazine, and they entered into an agreement to where the Examiner would buy damaging stories about Michael in exchange for Michael giving that magazine any and all exclusive stories about him. The Examiner would then bury the story and not run it. Michael also paid that magazine millions of dollars a year to perform these “catch and kill” duties for him. That was the only way that Michael was able to get elected as senator, because if the general public knew the depths of his sexual depravity and immorality, he wouldn’t have been able to get elected dog-catcher, and he knew it.

  God forbid the fact that he once had a male lover got out to the public. The fact that he hosted wild sex parties at his home for a number of years was bad enough. His home at that time was an isolated palace in Laurel Canyon, and the guests were discreet, as they all had something to lose if the information about the sex parties got out to the public. Politicians, movie stars and rich guys like himself would come to his house and participate in orgies and S&M activities, which were led by a prominent dominatrix whose day job was CEO of a billion-dollar international tech firm.

  When he participated in these parties, he not only got blown by transgendered men but also by gay porn stars and actors. These weren’t his only same-sex encounters, though. Far from it. When he was 18 years old, he was in a long-term relationship with a kid by the name of Steven Falcon. They were together until he was 21, which was when he met Violet and decided that he was going to one day run for office, and being gay was a non-starter.

  Anyhow, he was bi-sexual, not gay. He was able to get it up for men and women in equal measure. The public didn’t much care about that distinction, though. He didn’t know anybody in the senate who had same-sex relationships, with the exception of Tammy Baldwin from Wisc
onsin, and there was a reason for that. The public was still prejudiced against LGBT, especially the men who were gay and bi-sexual. Women were still able to get away with same-sex relationships much more than men. That wasn’t necessarily fair, but it was what it was.

  He therefore had a lot to lose in this Addison affair. Addison had not yet sold her story to the Examiner. She had been approached by Sonny after she turned up pregnant, but she refused to sell her story to him. Addison also knew about Michael’s arrangement with Sonny, due to the fact that he had approached her and she recently found out just how many stories Sonny had on Michael. Addison had been shocked to find out just what kind of a person he really was. She had been naive, because she really believed that she was the only one, aside from his wife, of course.

  As far as Michael was concerned, Addison was more dangerous than ever, considering the fact that she had become privy to all of Michael’s secrets that were being held by Sonny Mancino. Sonny had let Addison into the vault, against Michael’s wishes, so she officially knew too much.

  “What?” Michael asked his wife. “Why do you want me to go over there?”

  “Because you need to. Listen, you need to face the music on this one. We know that bribery isn’t going to work to keep her quiet, so you’re going to have to threaten her. But you’re going to have to do it in person.”