“I don’t think so.”
“So, someone else must’ve provided your personal phone number to him if he called you directly for the tip-off?”
“Ah,” Holmes paused. “I guess so. I didn’t ask how he had my phone number. It must’ve been passed onto him by another member of the team.”
Hunter waited for a few moments before he continued, allowing the line of questioning to sink into the minds of the jury members. “Did you or any members of the task force see Mr. Cowan pay for the drugs? Perhaps you saw money exchange hands?”
“No. We weren’t inside the club at the time.”
“Did you, or any other members of the task force, see Mr. Cowan take possession of the drugs?”
“No. Again, we weren’t in the club at that time.”
“Did you, or any other member of the task force, see Mr. Cowan handle the drugs?”
“We didn’t.”
“Did you, or any member of the task force, see Mr. Cowan take the drugs from the delivery van and transfer them into the club?”
“We didn’t have eyes on that, no.”
“Did you, or any other officer, see Mr. Cowan use the drugs?”
“No.”
“So the only reason you arrested Mr. Cowan is because the drugs were on his premises, a premises that is open to public access?”
“He was the only person who had control of the drugs.”
Hunter exaggerated his expressions for the benefit of the jury. One nodded in return.
“No further questions.”
Chapter 23
Rick Cowan’s first wife was always going to lay the lies on thick.
Lisa Forde was a tall woman, once good looking with an ample bust, but years of partying, alcohol, and drug abuse had taken its toll. She looked exhausted—not due to a lack of sleep, but due to years of neglecting her health. The years had eroded her tenacity, the drugs had worn down her body, and time was eating away at her chances of getting clean. Her son, with the man who came after Rick, had been taken away from her and placed in foster care. She was sleeping in a one-bedroom apartment in South Chicago, where she was working as a cleaner for a large corporation.
Listed as Witness D in the redacted files, Lisa Forde walked to the stand with her arms folded across her chest and her head down. Her flannel shirt was clean, her black hair tied back tightly, but her jeans were dirty. Her skin looked pale and dry, and her eyes were twitching. Her early photos, hanging off the arm of Rick Cowan, only ten years earlier, showed a country girl who moved to the bright lights of the city and was seduced by Cowan’s wealth and charm. Champagne was flowing in almost every picture, and her squeals of delight could almost be heard through the photographs. Ten years ago, she was young, naïve, and energetic, and now she was anything but.
“Thank you for taking the time to talk with us today, Ms. Forde.” Spencer began, seated behind his desk. “Do you know Mr. Cowan, the defendant in this case?”
“Rick and I were married for five years, but we’re divorced now. I first met Rick when I moved to Chicago from Kansas, and he showed me around the city. We didn’t date for long before the marriage, everything seemed perfect at the time, but I was twenty-one and he was already in his forties.” She leaned forward into the microphone, but still, her voice wasn’t loud. “We’ve been divorced for the last five years.”
“During your time married to Mr. Cowan, did you take drugs in his presence?”
“Objection.” Hunter stated. “The defendant has never been charged with any drug crimes previously, and this information is merely hearsay. It’s of no relevance to this case.”
“I argue that it is relevant, Your Honor. We’re asking the witness to describe her personal experiences, and the things she has personally witnessed. We’re not asking her to relay anything she has not seen.”
“I’ll allow it.” Judge Marshall responded. “However, Ms. Forde, you’re to only talk about your personal experiences.”
Spencer looked across to Hunter, smiled, and then continued. “During your time married to Mr. Cowan, did you take drugs in his presence?”
“I did.”
“Ms. Forde, had you personally purchased drugs while in the presence of Mr. Cowan?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been in the presence of Mr. Cowan in a room with a small quantity of cocaine?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been in the presence of Mr. Cowan in a room with a large quantity of cocaine?”
“Yes.”
“And have you maintained a relationship with Mr. Cowan since the divorce?”
“I wouldn’t say relationship.”
“But you’ve kept in contact?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “We’ve kept in contact.”
“And why have you kept in contact?”
“I would…” She paused, bit her lip and looked up to the judge. He nodded for her to continue. “I would buy drugs from him. He kept my habit going.”
“What sort of drugs, Ms. Forde?”
“Cocaine, meth, weed, ice. Anything he had. Anytime I needed to get high, I got a supply from Rick.”
“How often would you buy drugs from Mr. Cowan?”
“Every month I would go to the club, he would walk into a private room, that’s where he kept all his drugs, and he’d bring out a bag of something. I didn’t really care what he brought out, just as long as it got me high. Sometimes I didn’t even ask what it was, I just took it.”
“And were you due to buy drugs from Mr. Cowan after the date of October 5th?”
“Yes.” She refused to look at Cowan or even in his direction. “I was going to pick up another hit on that night but the raid happened. Rick said he was getting a new shipment in and he said I’d like what he’s got. He said he was receiving the shipment on Wednesday afternoon, that was October 5th.”
“How did he say this to you?”
“In a text message.” She brushed the tip of her nose. “He said I’d love the quality of the drugs he’s got for me.”
“The prosecution would like to introduce Exhibit 15 into the court. These are the transcripts of the text messages between Ms. Forde and Mr. Cowan on the days before the raid.” Spencer held up a number of pieces of paper, before handing one to the witness. “Ms. Forde, can you confirm these are the text messages you received from Mr. Cowan?”
“Looks like it.”
“Can you please read the message from Mr. Cowan on September 25th?”
She cleared her throat. “It says, ‘Shipment coming in on October 5th. You’ll love what I’ve got for you.’” She scratched her fingernails along the inside of her elbow, avoiding any eye contact with the jury, Cowan, or even the prosecution. “That’s all I knew. I didn’t know any other details. He didn’t usually tell me much. I didn’t know where he bought the drugs from.”
“Were you in the Five-Star at the time of the raid?”
“No, I was going down that evening, but then one of the girls called me and said the place had been raided. I didn’t go near the club then.”
“So how did the police contact you, if you weren’t there that day?”
“I was arrested for drug possession after that day, but I wasn’t charged. I guess the cops talked to me because I’m Rick’s ex-wife. After they talked to me, I told them everything I knew and gave them access to my text messages.”
“Thank you, Ms. Forde.” Spencer’s tone was flat. “No further questions.”
Although she didn’t appear reliable, she was a solid witness for the prosecution, her presence alone served to closely associate Cowan with a heavy drug user. Every jury member was questioning their relationship, and how, after five years of divorce, Cowan could still look wealthy, while his ex-wife looked homeless and broken.
When asked by the judge, Hunter stood and moved to the lectern. He stared at Ms. Forde, took a long breath, and reviewed his notes. She spent the time scratching the inside of her elbows—first the right, then the left, alternating e
very few seconds.
“Ms. Forde, did you see Mr. Cowan on the day of October 5th?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did you see him take the delivery of the drugs on October 5th?”
“No.” She stopped scratching and finally looked up at Hunter. “I didn’t see that.”
“Ms. Forde, were you at the club that day?”
“No.”
“Near the club?”
“No, but he told me—”
“Ms. Forde,” Hunter interrupted before she could continue. “Did Mr. Cowan show you a video of him receiving the drugs?”
“Of course not.”
“Interesting.” Hunter nodded, flipping over to a page in his notes. “Ms. Forde, have you been offered a deal from the prosecution to testify today? Did they tell you that if you told the court Mr. Cowan discussed the delivery of the drugs, you would satisfy that deal?”
“I was told that if I testified they would drop the charges of drug possession.”
“And when were you arrested for drug possession?”
“October 10th.”
“You were arrested five days after the raid on Mr. Cowan’s club?”
“I guess so.”
“And did you want the charges against you dropped?”
“Of course. I would’ve lost my job as a cleaner if I was convicted. It’s not much of a job, but it’s all I’ve got at the moment.”
“And when was the offer to testify given to you?”
“On the same day I was arrested.”
“Do you believe you were targeted on October 10th?”
“Targeted? What do you mean?”
“Let me rephrase that. Do you take drugs often?”
“Daily.”
“And is that widely known in your community?”
“I guess so.”
“And had you been arrested for drug possession before?”
“Twice.” She nodded. “Twice in the past.”
“But not in the last year?”
“I think that’s right. It’s been years since I’ve been arrested.”
“Do you think the police targeted you on October 10th so they could convince you to give a testimony against Mr. Cowan?”
“Objection. Speculation.” Spencer stood up. “The witness is in no position to answer that question.”
“Overruled.” Judge Marshall said. “Move on, Mr. Hunter.”
Hunter made a number of exaggerated nods, signaling to the jury this was important information. He waited a few moments, and then he heard an ‘ah’ sound from one of the jurors, a signal they understood why she had been targeted by the police.
“When Mr. Cowan gave you the drugs, how would you pay for them?”
She shook her head.
“Ms. Forde,” Hunter continued. “How would you pay your ex-husband for the drugs you allegedly purchased?”
“I would give him favors.”
“Sexual favors, Ms. Forde?”
“Um, yes.” She averted eye contact again. “He would ask me to do things that other women wouldn’t do for him.”
“Ms. Forde, do you receive alimony from Mr. Cowan?”
“Never a cent.” There was venom in her voice this time. Finally, some fire in her demeanor. “Nothing in the divorce settlement either. He made me sign a pre-nuptial agreement before we got married, and I was only twenty-one, so of course I signed it. He had all these high-powered lawyers and made threats against me once we divorced.”
“And were you angry when you saw him jetting all around the world, with the pictures widely available on social media, all the while you’re struggling to pay the rent in a one-bedroom apartment in Chicago’s Southside?”
“Of course.”
“Vindictive, perhaps?”
“Objection. Accusatory.”
“Sustained. You know better than that, Mr. Hunter. Move on.”
Hunter stared at Lisa Forde, her twitchy movements highlighting her drug use. One of the jury members grimaced when she coughed, moving away from her, careful to avoid whatever germs she was carrying.
Hunter turned to the jury and when he saw three heads shaking in disappointment at her performance, he closed the folder on the lectern.
“No further questions.”
Chapter 24
The following days of the trial came and went in a flurry of activity. Expert drug analysis witnesses talked the talk, announcing their seemingly boundless knowledge about the make-up of cocaine, members of the drug task force testified about the intensity of the raid, and members of the community discussed how they had used drugs in the Five-Star previously. The prosecution’s strategy was clear to all—they were attempting to paint a picture of Rick Cowan’s drug-affected lifestyle. By the fifth day of the trial, that painting had become a masterpiece. The prosecution had used the witness list to great success, hinting at Cowan’s activities, business interests, and illegal deals. It was clear to everyone in the courtroom, Hunter included, that Cowan was involved in a long string of illegal activity. Hunter objected where he could, and called to question the integrity of the witnesses, but there was little he could do about the amount of testimonies that came forward.
A year earlier, nobody would’ve been brave enough to take the stand against Cowan. But with a well of money that was almost dried up, his influence had diminished, his power had waned, and there was now a long line of people waiting to take shots at Cowan. They were happy to trample on him when he was down, in the hope he never stood back up.
Esther, sitting behind Hunter in the courtroom, indicated to the laptop sitting on the defense table. ‘Email,’ she whispered. Hunter opened the laptop and read the first email. The email was brief but the message was sharp.
Tex,
I know you think I did this, but I didn’t. I’m caught up in this as well. Here’s something you don’t know—Rick Cowan took out an insurance policy on his freedom.
Jerry Schultz.
Hunter turned to look at Esther. She raised her eyebrows. Hunter nodded. Esther stood, and left the courtroom, a busy day of research ahead of her. It could’ve been a distraction from Schultz, he was well known for such tactics, but it was worth a look.
John Warden, seated in the back row of the courtroom, stared at Esther as she walked out. Warden was seated nearest to the exit, and caught Hunter’s eye. Hunter held his gaze for a few moments, and then turned back to his notes.
The next prosecution witness, Tony Kokkinos was called to the stand. He walked to the stand in a light blue suit, collar open, and a skinny gold chain around his neck. He smiled at the judge, the bailiff and the jury as he walked in. Charm came easily to him.
A fifty-year-old rival strip club owner, Kokkinos knew the game well. If Cowan went to prison, he could low-ball an offer for Cowan’s club, and add to his current collection of five. A clever business move, if there ever was one. Every new club added to his growing reputation, written about in the papers that mattered, and every new media piece fueled his ego.
“Mr. Kokkinos,” Spencer began after welcoming Kokkinos to the courtroom. “How do you know the defendant?”
“My path has crossed with Rick Cowan’s many times over the years. We run rival clubs. I own the Golden Pole franchise, and we have five clubs in Illinois. We’re looking at buying another club soon. All my clubs are legitimate businesses in wonderful settings that provide entertainment to members of the public.” He didn’t miss the opportunity to advertise his clubs. “Over the years, I had lent Mr. Cowan money, and usually he paid me back, but now, he owes me a lot, and as per our deal, it’s increasing with interest.”
“How much money does Mr. Cowan owe you?”
“I lent him quarter of a million in cash last year for an investment into a restaurant. I figured if Rick went into the restaurant trade, then I would be best placed to buy his club. But the restaurant failed, and he hasn’t paid a cent of the money back.”
“Did you ask Mr. Cowan directly if he could pay you back?�
�
“I asked him politely, of course. He avoided me for a long time, but then he called to say he wanted to meet. When we met he told me that he was getting a shipment in that could pay back some of his debts.”
“A shipment?” Spencer questioned. It was a rehearsed line, and they were playing it well. “Did Mr. Cowan tell you what the shipment was of?”
“Mr. Cowan told me he was getting a shipment of drugs. Cocaine. That didn’t shock me, not with Rick’s history. He said it was a large delivery and it’d pay back some of his debts once he could move the gear.”
“He told you this directly?”
“To my face. In person.” He brushed the tip of his nose with his thumb. “He said this was how he could pay me back for the failed restaurant venture.”
Hunter could sense the anger coming off Cowan next to him. All his rivals were involved in the set up—his so-called friends, his ex-wife, rival business owners. They all wanted to see him go down, and they would all happily join the celebration party once he was convicted.
“Where were you on the day of October 5th?”
“I was at the Five-Star just after lunchtime.”
“What did you see while you were in the Five-Star Gentlemen’s Club?”
“I saw Mr. Cowan take a bag from a man in a white shirt and jeans, and then put them in the private room. Mr. Cowan said that the drugs were in the bag. Then I left. This was before the raid on the club happened.”
“What time did you witness this?”
“Around 1:30pm.”
“Did you see cocaine in the bag?”
“Objection.” Hunter called out. “The witness is in no position to answer what the substance was.”
“Sustained.” Judge Marshall stated.
“I’ll rephrase.” Spencer said. “Mr. Kokkinos, did you see a white powder in the bag?”
“I was standing next to Mr. Cowan when the man handed the bag over. Once he had the bag, Mr. Cowan unzipped it, checked the package was in there, and then walked away from me. I watched Mr. Cowan unlock the private room with a key, and put the bag of drugs in there.”
Deadly Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Book 4) Page 13