“But we have numerous circumstantial evidence that tell us that your client is the shooter.”
Osborne slammed both hands hard enough against the table to make Matt jump in his chair.
“You cannot be serious, detective Morrell!” Osborne roared, and for a second or two Matt was worried that the two men were going to start trading blows.
“You have absolutely diddly squat. Your evidence is just about as watertight as the Titanic after it plowed into the iceberg. And based on this flimsy evidence, you have trashed my client’s residence in the hope that you would find a weapon that could be linked to the assassination of Mr. Rodriguez. But you came up with absolutely nothing, which any person with half a brain cell could have told you. You have also scoured the crime scene, and found nothing that would indicate that my client was there. And yet you arrest him in the middle of the street without even reading him his Miranda rights and informing him of why he is being arrested, which is big frickin violation of his civil rights. And then you haul him down to the station like he’s been caught red handed humping the chief of police’s daughter. And you do all of this based on an anonymous tip. Jesus Almighty! I already knew the police department in Phoenix was filled to the brim with incompetent hicks, but I didn’t know they had started hiring morons!”
“Hey, you watch your language Mr. Smart Ass Lawyer,” Morrell snapped back. His cheeks were red, and Matt could see that the left corner of his eye was twitching. The detective had placed his elbows on the table and was pointing an accusatory finger at Osborne.
“Don’t you raise your voice at me you incompetent buffoon,” Osborne snapped right back at him. “If you don’t release my client immediately, we’ll sue your whole frickin department for unlawful arrest and harassment. And you know what? We will win that case hands down, because you guys have absolutely nothing.”
Morrell didn’t respond, but kept glaring at the lawyer, and Matt was sure that if this exchange had taken place somewhere else, and Morrell had suspected that he could get away with it, Osborne would have had a black eye by now.
“Come on Mr. Osborne,” Valdez said after a few seconds of tense silence. “We have proof that your client received the payment for the hit. We also have proof that he quit his job and intended to leave town. We also know that he has the skills required to carry out the hit. We have more than enough evidence to hold him here at the station for the time being.”
Osborne shifted his gaze from Morrell to Valdez, and slowly removed his glasses and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Really? And tell me detective, when did it become a crime to have funds deposited into your bank account? Because if it is, the entire adult population of this country are to be considered criminals. And do you know what? The reason why the money was placed in my client’s account, which by the way is none of your business, is completely irrelevant. Or are you seriously suggesting that the Phoenix Police Department is going to start arresting people who have had more than a thousand bucks deposited into their accounts and treat them as potential suspects in this case?”
Osborne pushed his chair away from the table and stood up, and indicated for Matt to do the same.
“And as far as my client’s sharpshooting skills are concerned, that is something that he probably shares with half the male population in this state. In case you haven’t noticed detective, people in Arizona are passionate about their guns and their second amendment rights. And in case they didn’t teach you this at the police academy, there is no law against moving in this country.”
Osborne grabbed the few documents from the table and placed them inside his briefcase. Then he pushed the chair against the table and looked down at Morrell, who was still fuming.
“So, what’s it going to be gentlemen? Are you going to release my client, or do I have to contact the DA and inform him that I intend to sue the department for wrongful arrest and gross negligence?”
Matt held his breath and was waiting for the verbal rebuke that would be hurled at them from the other side of the table. But to his surprise it never came. It was as if Osborne had taken a needle and popped their balloons. The two detectives seemed utterly deflated.
Then a few seconds later, he saw Valdez tossing the pen he was holding down on the table and letting out a deep sigh. He didn’t look particularly happy, but he seemed nowhere as angry as his partner.
“I guess, your client is free to go councilor,” he said and gave Osborne a dour look, which prompted Osborne to give Matt a quick nod and the two of them started walking toward the door.
“But don’t believe for a second that you’re off the hook,” Valdez said to Matt as Osborne opened the door. “We’re not done with you, and we’ll be in touch with you very soon.”
“No, you won’t.” Osborne said, as he turned around and walked over to Valdez. “You will do no such thing. You are going to leave my client alone. You have harassed him more than enough as it is. If you have any questions, you will contact me and I will consider answering them. If I hear that you have gone anywhere near my client without my knowledge, I will sue both of you morons for harassment, and that’s a promise.”
Then he turned away before Valdez got an opportunity to respond, placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder and the two of them left the room.
When they exited the station at a quarter past midnight, Osborne asked Matt to follow him over to his car, a big black Cadillac that was parked between two police cruisers.
“Listen,” he said as he placed his briefcase on the roof of the vehicle and turned around and faced Matt. “Getting you out of that place was a piece of cake. Those schmucks didn’t have sufficient evidence to hang on to a shoplifter, let alone a murder suspect.”
“Well, they certainly had me fooled there for a while,” Matt said. “I was certain that I would end up in prison when they told me why they had brought me in.”
Osborne lifted his hand, gave Matt a sly grin and waved his index finger back and forth in front of his face.
“You see that’s why you never ever talk to the police without a decent defense lawyer present. Those goons in there won’t think twice about framing innocent people if they think they can get away with it.”
He reached inside his pocket and handed Matt one of his business cards. It was a miniature version of the billboard ad.
“Next time they try to contact you, you call me immediately and keep your lips sealed until I arrive. Deal?”
Matt took the card and nodded. “You bet. I think I’ve learned my lesson by now.”
“That’s good to hear, Matt,” Osborne said, following two uniformed police officers on their way into the station with his eyes. After they disappeared through the sliding doors, he looked back at Matt again and let out a deep breath. Then he momentarily looked down at the ground.
“You know the person that the police allege that you assassinated, Senor Miguel Rodriguez, was a pretty nasty individual.” Osborne was talking in a low voice, and he made sure to emphasize the word ‘nasty’ so it didn’t slip his client by.
“The Meridional Cartel, whom he was a member of, is a ruthless organization that is responsible for thousands of deaths across the US. They show no mercy, and they kill anyone who crosses their path. Now, the police might not have enough evidence to charge you with Senor Rodriguez’s untimely death, and are thus forced to leave you alone. But the same can unfortunately not be said about the Meridional cartel. If they catch wind of the fact that you’re a suspect, and if they believe that there is some truth to this, they’ll come after you with a vengeance before you can say ‘I didn’t do it’. Trust me, it has happened on numerous occasions in the past.”
Osborne paused again, and Matt felt the momentary exhilaration of being released from police custody evaporate like water splashed on the road on a hot summer’s day. The fact that the cartel might come after him was something he hadn’t considered. In fact it hadn’t even crossed his mind up until now. He had been too preoccupied with
pleading his innocence. But now that he didn’t have to worry about being locked up and shipped off to prison anymore, and actually had some time to take a step back and think things through, it was something that filled him with pure dread. Like most people living in the Southwest, he was acutely aware of the drug cartels’ power and their preferred methods of dealing with their enemies. Almost every evening there were TV reports about their violent activities in and around Phoenix.
And Osborne was right. If the cartel believed he had anything to do with the murder, they would come after him with everything they had. And if, and when they found him, he could do very little to save himself. Ending up in the cross-hairs of the Meridional Cartel was pretty much like being issued a personal execution order. Fuck! He was in real dire straits here.
“Listen Matt, if I were you, I would lay low for the next few months. If you’re lucky those douchebags up there might just manage to arrest the real killer, and subsequently get you off the hook.” Osborne pointed at the police station with his thumb. “If it’s true that you intended to leave town, then hats off to you, because right now that’s the right thing to do. Get as far away from here as you can and keep your head down. And if you’re lucky, you might just be able to ride this one out. You certainly have the financial funds required to do so. A hundred thousand dollars will last you a long time buddy.”
Osborne held out his hand and Matt shook it.
“Good luck to you Matt,” he said, and gave his client a solemn look. “If you use your brain, you’ll make it out of here alive.”
Then he turned around and pulled the briefcase from the roof of the Cadillac toward him, opened the door and drove away.
Matt waited until he saw the long, sleek car clear the corner and disappear two blocks up ahead. Then he turned his head and looked around him, convinced that someone was watching him, even though he couldn’t see anyone. It was time to get moving. There was no need to hang around outside this place any longer than necessary.
7
El Juez pressed the red button on the screen and put the cellphone back on the nightstand in the motel room he was staying in. And for the first time since he’d arrived in Phoenix more than a day ago, a genuine smile appeared on his face.
He had finally found the clue he’d been searching for, or rather detective Jim Ryan had found it for him. He lifted the notepad and held it up in front of his face, and read the name and address that he had jotted down there;
‘Matthew Brunner - 2250 Amber Avenue, Alhambra’.
It was the name of the person he had been ordered to kill, and he would carry out his assignment with lethal precision. The best part of it all was that the police had been forced to release the target, due to lack of evidence.
El Juez placed the notepad next to him on the bed and gazed down at the red numbers on the display of the clock radio. They showed that it was four thirty in the morning. If he hurried, he would be able to finish the assignment before breakfast. Then if everything went smoothly after that, he could be on his way back to Mexico before lunch.
He stood up and stretched to remove the sleep induced stiffness from his body before walking over to the wooden chair that was pushed in under the desk, and removed the pants and jacket that he had placed there the previous evening.
Five minutes later he was in the car, heading toward Alhambra and his assignment.
It was still dark outside when El Juez made a left turn twenty minutes later and entered the wide road where the target’s house was located. The street was deserted at this hour, and the only noise he could hear was the muted drone coming from the freeway in the distance.
The neighborhood was in an old part of the city, and the majority of the houses he passed looked both tired and unloved. But even so, they still looked a whole lot nicer than the great majority of houses in Mexico, but then again that was the case with most places on this side of the border.
He found the house he was looking for when he was halfway down the street, but he still kept going for two more blocks. Then he did a right turn, pulled over and parked in a side street.
Before he leaned down and retrieved the gun under the seat, he gave the area a cursory glance. Everything appeared normal. There was nothing there to rouse his suspicions and which would cause him to temporarily abort the mission. It was a quiet residential area, with the residents still fast asleep, oblivious to what was about to happen.
The only light he could see was coming from lamp posts situated about sixty or seventy yards apart. A handful of cars were parked on either side of the street, but there were no people in sight and that suited El Juez just fine.
They’re all tucked safely under their blankets, blissfully unaware that one of their own will no longer be with them when they wake up in a few hours. He slapped the magazine in place on the 1911 Colt, and placed the gun in the holster underneath his jacket. Then he opened up the door and stepped outside.
When he reached the target’s house, he casually walked up the driveway, turned right and followed the little concrete path that led up to the entrance door. He continued past it and kept walking until he arrived at the corner of the house and the six foot fence that separated the front of the property from the back, and which prevented unwanted visitors from walking straight into the backyard.
There was a gate situated about a yard away from the corner of the house, and to El Juez’s great surprise, it was unlocked. He pushed the gate until there was enough room for him to get through, and quickly slipped inside. In his right hand was a switchblade that he had removed from his back pocket a few moments earlier. He didn’t think there were dogs on the property, but you could never tell, and he was not going to risk getting bitten.
He counted slowly to ten, and when he couldn’t hear any paws tapping against the hard soil, nor any barks or heavy breathing, he started moving again.
If he had been a normal person, it is quite possible that he would have marveled at how composed and unaffected he was, given what was about to happen. His pulse was normal, his respiration that of a person relaxing and his thoughts lucid and clear. There was nothing about his behavior that would indicate that he was about to take a life. But then again, if he had been a normal person, he would never have gotten involved in this line of business.
Entering a residence during the middle of the night, or in the early morning hours was also something that he had done on numerous occasions in the past. And he preferred it over daylight killings. It was easier to carry out his assignments at this time of the day. His targets would in the majority of the cases be fast asleep, and all he had to do was to get close enough to put a bullet in their heads without waking them up.
And even in those cases where the targets were still awake, the long hours that they had spent worrying that someone might be after them had dulled their senses, and their reflexes weren’t up to scratch when the moment finally arrived.
He reached the far corner of the house and spent a few moments studying the backyard. The light shining down from the full moon above made it seem like the dead lawn was fluorescent, and that it was emitting a very faint light of its own.
It wasn’t that big, probably no more than a couple of thousand square feet. But it was fully fenced, and there were a handful of trees in front of the fence at the back. That was good, because it gave him some privacy. Not that he expected that any of the neighbors were spying on him from behind the windows in the nearby properties. But it didn’t hurt either.
He closed the switchblade and put it back in his pocket again. Then he got his gun out of the holster and attached a silencer that he’d pulled out from the inside pocket of his jacket. After that was taken care of, he started walking again, carefully studying the ground before him lest he step on anything and alert his target.
He found the laundry door on the other side of the house, and quickly unlocked it along with the screen door with a few quick taps on the bump key. Then he stepped inside and pulled both doors shut behind him.
He then waited, straining his ears to pick up any minute sounds that might emanate from somewhere further in the house. But he couldn’t hear any.
He raised the gun and held it up so the barrel was facing the ceiling. It was darker in here than outside, and he needed some time to adjust his eyes before he could continue.
While he was waiting for this to happen, he tried to mentally figure out the layout of the place. The house wasn’t all that big, and he suspected that the master bedroom would have to be located at the other end. But he was unsure whether it was facing the front or the back.
It meant that he would have to walk the entire length of the place to get to his target. That again meant that the target had several opportunities to hide and try to ambush him if he suspected that there was an intruder in the house. El Juez didn’t think that would happen, but he couldn’t rule it out either.
He had been very quiet. The only noise he’d made was when he’d tapped the bump key to gain entry to the house. And that had hardly generated any sounds at all. Both doors had opened up silently.
Slowly the darkness started to release its grip and the contours of the room came into focus, and El Juez could make out enough details to start moving again. If he had known that he would enter the target’s house during the night, he would have organized some night vision goggles, but there simply hadn’t been any time for it. Speed was always of the essence on assignments like this, and he had none to spare.
He exited the laundry and arrived in the living room, which was slightly brighter than the room he had just left. There he turned right and started walking toward the arch at the other end of the room on his left hand side. He suspected it would take him into the hallway and on toward the master bedroom. There was a door directly opposite it on the right hand side, leading into the garage.
Shock and Awe Page 6