Saving Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Book 5)

by Peter O'Mahoney

  The bailiffs took his father away. Still, he didn’t turn around. The courtroom cleared, as did the noise of celebration. Patrick helped their mother out of the courtroom, leaving Hunter in the front row of the courtroom alone. He stared at the empty jury box. He didn’t understand how they could’ve said he was guilty. How did they come to that decision? The feeling of illness rushed through every part of his body. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to curl into a ball and make the pain stop. He had failed. He had let his father go to prison. As a ten-year-old, he thought he could’ve stopped it. He thought his testimony would’ve proved how great his father was. He thought if the lawyers had allowed him to speak, he could’ve convinced the jury of his father’s innocence. He could’ve explained to them that his father couldn’t have been a serial killer. He spent twenty minutes sitting alone in the court before the bailiff yelled at him, called him scum, and told him to leave. At that moment, Hunter vowed never to feel like that again.

  But standing in his office, staring at himself in the mirror, he could feel that sensation build in his stomach. He felt ill. He blinked back the tears.

  After fifteen minutes alone in his office, Esther knocked gently on the door and entered the room.

  She found Hunter standing in front of the full-length mirror that was on the inside of one of the cupboards, staring at his own reflection. He was dressed in his darkest suit, the one he only wore for funerals, trying to turn his black tie into a Windsor knot. His hands were shaking, and his eyes were filled with tears.

  “Let me help.” Esther said softly as she stepped forward and took the tie into her hands. “I can do that.”

  Hunter didn’t resist.

  “We’re getting somewhere in Dr. Mackie’s trial.” Hunter said, trying his best to focus on work. “We’re establishing the groundwork for a major push next week. Christoph King is on the stand on Monday morning, and he’ll provide a major turning point for us.”

  “Sure.” Esther said as she untangled his tie.

  “If we can prove the link between him and Joe Fielding, then we have a chance to create doubt in the minds of the jurors. Monday is our chance to win the trial.”

  “Ok.”

  “We need everything to go right. If we can prove the connection, then we have a chance. That’s all we need. A chance. I can win it from here.”

  “Of course.” Esther nodded.

  “I just…” Hunter looked away. “I have to win this case.”

  “Your tie is ready.” Esther patted the Windsor knot. “It looks good.”

  “Esther?” Hunter whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “Can you come with me to the memorial for Stacey?” He didn’t look at her. “Please.”

  She paused for a moment, before responding. “Of course I can.”

  Chapter 32

  Hunter sat at the back of the church hall, away from those who were going to outwardly display their strong emotions. The hall seated fifty and every seat was filled. At the front of the room, a small shrine to Stacey Fulbright was displayed. Photos. Her favorite red shoes. Her favorite book. They were a collection of her life, a tribute to a woman who tried to make the world a better place. To the left of the shrine, a projector screen had been set up. Flowers had been piled up underneath the screen.

  Hunter was seated against the wall, near the entrance, on one of the fold-out metal chairs, watching the memorial from a distance. Carl had decided against a formal funeral until they found her body. He didn’t want to bury the last remaining sliver of hope that he had. Instead, the family settled on a memorial to celebrate the life of Stacey Fulbright. It was going to be positive, Carl told everyone. We need to celebrate her life, he said. The music, while somber, was upbeat, and there were more happy tears than sad ones.

  The church hall had been painted recently, and the smell still hung in the air. The candles at the front of the church were lit, but it did little to hide the paint smell. The sun streamed in the skylights, almost a signal from above.

  The police divers spent a week looking for Stacey’s body in the bottom of the river, but they came up with nothing. They found her jacket, and one of her shoes, and concluded that the body washed further downstream. The rains had come through and cleaned the river. Bodies weren’t always found; the police told the family. One day, she might show up.

  Carl denied the request for a death certificate until they found her.

  After the speeches, photos of Stacey Fulbright’s life splashed on the screen at the front of the room, met with smiles, laughs, and tears. It was the photos of the family that broke hearts the most. The pictures of her babies, so lovingly cradled in Stacey’s arms, didn’t leave a dry eye in the place.

  The memorial was full of sadness, but it was Noah and Zoe’s bewilderment that ate at Hunter. He remembered that feeling. That feeling deep inside, clawing away at his stomach. It made him physically ill. He couldn’t take his eyes off Noah, sobbing in the front row. As Noah sat next to his sister and father, Hunter couldn’t help but feel that he had failed them. He had failed to protect Noah from the horrors of the court system.

  Hunter remembered the days after his father’s trial, the days when he felt most alone. He had lost his father to the prison system. His mother had been arrested in the days after the trial as an accessory. His older brother was dealing with the trauma by partying and never being home, and his sister Natalie had fled to another country.

  That empty pit of loneliness filled his stomach again.

  After an hour of memories and speeches, the fifty or so attendees began to disperse out the back doors of the church hall, and into the sunshine.

  Michael Vandenberg walked behind Hunter as they exited, and then leaned close to him. “It’s sad, our Stacey going like she did.”

  Hunter nodded his response.

  “Stacey and I… well, we had our differences in the courtroom,” Vandenberg continued. “But I never expected her to go out by her own hand. I never expected her to do it herself. I guess that’s the profession we’re in. There’s a lot of pressure in our jobs. A lot of mental stress. I’m sure you know what that’s like. It’s a hard world we live in. Lots of us go that way.”

  “Are you here to support Carl?” Hunter’s tone was flat.

  “Carl?” Vandenberg looked at him in confusion. “No, I’m here because Stacey was a colleague of mine. We had many interactions over the years, and I’ll miss challenging her on the rule of law.”

  “I know Carl approached you to talk about a divorce.”

  Vandenberg’s mouth hung open for a long moment. “I talk to many people and not all of them follow through on the divorce. Carl and I had a chat. Nothing more. A chat doesn’t mean he was considering a divorce.”

  “You represent people with money like Christoph King, not the little guys like Carl Fulbright.” Hunter responded. “To even discuss the case with Carl, it would’ve been personal against Stacey.”

  “This isn’t the time to speak of things like that. The past is the past. Let it rest. A woman is dead, for crying out loud. Let it go. Stacey was an intelligent woman and a formidable opponent. May she rest in peace.” Vandenberg shook his head. “I’ll be at the Whiskey Five in Wicker Park if you want to join me for a drink later. We can make a toast to Stacey.”

  Hunter didn’t respond as Vandenberg walked away. Hunter waited a moment, then stepped to the side of the crowd, and took his cell phone from his pocket.

  “Ray. I’ve found the link in Dr. Mackie’s case.” Hunter called his investigator. “But I need the footage from inside the Whiskey Five bar.”

  Chapter 33

  Hunter spent all of the weekend in the office. He couldn’t leave it. It was the only way to distract himself from the barrage of blame he had rolling through his head. He considered sleeping in his office on Saturday night, but decided it was best to head back to his apartment. He arrived at his apartment late, had two whiskeys, then he lay in bed for five hours, before deciding that he couldn’t slee
p. He was back in his office by 8am Sunday morning. By the time Esther had arrived with lunch, the whiteboard in the boardroom was filled with notes in various colors.

  “There must be something.” Hunter said as Esther walked into the boardroom. “There has to be something we can pressure King with. He’s on the stand tomorrow and he knows more than he’s telling us. The fact that he’s arrogant enough to get on the stand, means he’s arrogant enough to make a mistake. We can pressure him about his first divorce and how much he lost. The fact that he got burned in that divorce case so badly still hurts him. You could see it in his eyes. That’s the way I have to break him.”

  “Good morning to you.” Esther greeted him and held up the bags. “I brought sandwiches.”

  “Yes.” Hunter turned and then relaxed. “Sorry. Yes. Good morning, Esther. Thanks for coming in.”

  The midday sun streamed in the windows behind Hunter. It was bright, and Hunter liked it that way. Esther unwrapped the sandwiches and handed Hunter his favorite—a pastrami sub from Manny’s Deli. An institution in the city, Manny’s Deli was regularly rated as one of the best subs in the state. The smile on Hunter’s face said it all. “You know how to make a man happy.”

  “Well,” her cheeky smile shone through.

  Hunter grinned as he sat down next to her, silent as they bit into their sandwiches. At the same time, they both unconsciously let out a groan of pleasure, followed by a laugh.

  While they enjoyed their subs packed full of meat, they talked about the memorial and the beautiful photos that were displayed. They talked about the flowers, and the sadness that the family was experiencing. Carl and the children were well-supported, but moving on would be hard.

  “When I go, I don’t want a celebration. None of these photos, or the touching soundtracks. I don’t want any of it.” Hunter said as he took a final large bite of the pastrami goodness. “Just pack me up, and ship me off. There’s no use anyone being sad about it.”

  “I’d be sad.” Esther said.

  Hunter didn’t respond, staring at the whiteboard instead. They sat in silence for a few moments before Hunter stood and walked back to the board. He picked up a marker and began writing again.

  “Christoph King’s first wife got seventy-five percent of everything, not just half.” Esther said as she finished her sandwich. “She got the house, the kid, the cars, and control of his shares. He practically had to restart his business after that.”

  “But he fared better in the second divorce. After being burned in the divorce case, King remarried five years later, but that marriage didn’t last long. It was only a few months before she filed for divorce. He married a young woman named Laura Charter, who had quite the following on social media. She filed first, but then withdrew it. King learned his lesson from the first divorce and turned to Vandenberg to represent him, and that was settled between the lawyers for only $500,000. It wasn’t disputed by Charter. At the time, King was estimated to be worth as much as $10 million.”

  “Why the low settlement then?” Esther questioned as she licked her fingers. “What tipped the balance in his favor?”

  “The wife’s new lover stepped forward. She was willing to testify that they were in a relationship. A female, as well. The wife denied any cheating, but the pre-nuptial agreement stipulated that any cheating reduced the settlement to almost nothing. The second wife had to settle because Vandenberg had photos of Charter and her new female lover together. Charter was previously in two female relationships, according to her social media posts. She denied ever being in a relationship with the new woman, but Vandenberg presented photos of them. He had photos of them leaving a hotel together, walking together along an exercise path side by side, and having lunch together. Charter denied it all—she said the woman followed her out of the hotel one night when she was traveling to New York, then was coincidently next to her on an exercise path, and coincidently next to her at a communal lunch table.”

  “It all sounds like too much of a coincidence. In a different city, leaving the same hotel?” Esther scoffed. “No wonder she settled for such a small amount. No judge would’ve believed it was a coincidence, and she would’ve got nothing.”

  “Exactly.” Hunter snapped his fingers. “That’s what Becky Bennett was talking about. The woman who ended up becoming Joe Fielding’s assistant. That’s exactly what she said. She had to follow a woman out of a hotel, sit near her, and follow her around for a while.”

  “What do you mean?” Esther questioned.

  “It’s Fielding again.” Hunter grunted. “Christoph King paid Fielding to set up Laura Charter. What a plan. The photos made it look like too much of a coincidence, and even though Charter was telling the truth, no judge would’ve believed her. She would’ve got nothing in the divorce settlement, and her lawyer would’ve advised her to take the low settlement from King or leave with nothing.”

  “If it wasn’t so evil, it would be genius.” Esther placed the wrapper in the trash can. “Are you sure King organized it?”

  “King or Vandenberg would’ve paid Fielding. One of them is behind it.” Hunter responded. “This has to be our opening for the testimony tomorrow. It’ll be an opening to pressure King on the stand, something to turn the screws tighter while he’s under oath.”

  “Will it break him though? He’s not going to reveal what he knows about this case just because we know about his ex-wife. He’s smarter than that.”

  Hunter sat back down in the office chair closest to the whiteboard. He tilted his head up, resting the back of his head on the top of the leather chair, before tapping his head against it.

  It was all there, all the information they needed to prove that Dr. Mackie was set-up, but he was going to have a hard time convincing the jury of the connections. The jury needed a plausible story, not one that was thrown together at the last minute. As it stood, they weren’t going to find Dr. Mackie innocent.

  “Vandenberg, King and Fielding have a history of setting people up. Who knows how long they were doing this sort of thing?” Esther took a loud slurp from her water bottle. “And Dr. Mackie’s wife is currently being represented by Vandenberg’s law firm in the divorce. So how do we prove it? How do we prove that one of them set this up? Fielding is dead, and Becky Bennett is refusing to testify. You said that even if we put her on the stand, she’d deny everything.”

  Hunter’s phone rang. He looked at the number and placed his cell phone on the table.

  “Jones. Tell me you’ve got something good.”

  “Are we talking about my success with the ladies last night at the club, or are we talking about your case?” Ray Jones laughed. “Because I tell you, last night—”

  “Hello, Ray.” Esther interrupted.

  “Oh, hello Esther. I guess I won’t go into details about my night in the club then.”

  “I don’t think I need to hear that.” Esther laughed.

  “Give me something on the case.” Hunter said. “I need something, Ray.”

  “The people in the Whiskey Five were tough negotiators, and they wouldn’t give me the file footage. Privacy is their thing. Without it, they wouldn’t have a business. They protect their clients. But the guy behind the bar was happy to talk, off the record, of course. He said Joe Fielding met with two people only days before Dr. Mackie was set-up. And you’re going to like what I have to tell you.”

  “Tell me it’s good.”

  “Oh, it’s good, alright.” The joy in Jones’ voice was clear. “They’re refusing to give us any footage, but they were happy to tell me about it. It might not be enough to convict someone of fraud, but it’s a lead.”

  “How do we expose them if we don’t have video or photos?” Esther questioned. “If the Whiskey Five won’t release the footage, how do we prove Fielding was meeting with people there?”

  Hunter smiled. “All great magic tricks are about misdirection.”

  Chapter 34

  Christoph King walked to the stand full of confidence. His shoulder
s were back, his chin held high, and his stomach stuck out. He looked like he owned the place. He was well-dressed in a suit, walking with a smooth and confident swagger. The arrogance that he was above the law was overwhelming.

  Rollins welcomed him and thanked him for coming to the court to testify. He’d been through the process before—twice—and appeared comfortable on the stand.

  “Mr. King, can you please tell the court where you were on November 5th?”

  “Certainly. After a morning in my office, I drove to the Gold Coast, parked on the side of the road of Elm St, and walked towards the medical clinic owned by Dr. Mackie. I thought I could stretch my legs before going inside. The air was nice, and I didn’t mind the walk.”

  “And why were you visiting the medical clinic?”

  “I wanted to talk with Dr. Mackie about a business proposal. And as I was walking into the clinic, just as I was about to open the door, I saw something which I thought was unusual at the time.”

  “And what was it that you thought was unusual?”

  “I saw a woman leaving the doctor’s office with tears streaming down her face. She was walking out of the doctor’s office doors as I was heading in. I went to say something to her, I thought the doctor must’ve given her bad news, but she avoided me. I stepped towards her, and she turned away.”

  “Did you know the woman?”

  “At the time, no, but later I came to know her as Miss Jennings. It was only once the police contacted me after that day, that I put the pieces of the puzzle together.”

  “Can you please describe how the woman was crying?”

  “Like a sobbing cry. The sort of cry a person tries to hide but it’s clear to see. It looked like she was trying to hold it in.”

  “And when you saw her crying, how close were you to the victim?”

  “She brushed past me. Not even five inches apart. She was trying to shelter her face, but then she looked at me as I went to ask her if she was alright, and that’s when I saw all the tears.”