Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series)

by Dennis Carstens

  “Look, Steve,” the judge said. “I get it. This is a big deal and I want to get whoever is doing this too. But one loose strand of hair for a suspect whose already been screwed by DNA testing isn’t enough. And if you try to shop this around to another judge, I’ll remember it.”

  “Yes, your Honor,” Gondeck said then turned and left before the steam started coming out of his ears.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Owen Jefferson hung up the department’s phone and heavily sighed. Steve Gondeck had called with the news about the warrants. Jefferson looked across the table at Marcie who stared back with an inquisitive look on her face.

  “Serenity now,” Jefferson said.

  “What?”

  “No warrants,” he answered her. “No search warrant, no arrest warrant. That was Steve Gondeck, with Slocum’s office…”

  “Yeah, I know who he is.”

  “The judge he had to take the applications to refused to sign them. Said she needed more than a single strand of hair. Steve thinks Traynor suing everybody over the last time DNA was used against him caused her to pause.”

  “Now what?” Marcie asked.

  Jefferson didn’t answer her right away. He swiveled his chair toward the whiteboard. He leaned back while staring at the names, reflecting on what they could do.

  “I say we go pick him up anyway,” Marcie said. “We have enough to haul his ass in here for questioning.”

  Jefferson turned his chair back to her, stared directly at her for several seconds before saying, “You’re right. Go get him. Grab a couple of uniforms and get him downtown. He should be at the church but you can check with Rod Schiller to make sure.”

  Marcie started dialing the phone to call Schiller and while doing so said, “What are you up to?”

  “I have someone I need to talk to. Make sure everybody wears a vest and has a Taser. I don’t trust this guy one bit. And keep quiet about this. I don’t want the media hanging from the rafters when you get him back here.”

  Jefferson quietly waited for his partner to finish her calls then pack up and leave. As soon as she was out the door, he made the call he was waiting to make.

  “Hey, you busy right this minute?” Jefferson said when Tony Carvelli answered this phone.

  “No, I was about to call you anyway. I hear you got the DNA results back from the hair sample found on Cara Meyers and it’s our boy Howie,” Carvelli said.

  “How did you find that out?”

  “I’m not telling you and I’m not sure you want to know.”

  “Okay, I need to talk to you. You got some time now?” Jefferson asked.

  “Why aren’t you out arresting the sonofabitch?”

  “That’s one of the things I need to talk to you about.”

  “Okay,” Carvelli replied. “I could use some lunch anyway.”

  Barely fifteen minutes after the phone call between the two men, Carvelli entered Rosa’s on Lake Street and Graham Avenue. He looked along the wall on the right-hand side and checked the booths until he spotted Jefferson.

  “Best Mexican in town,” Carvelli said as he shook Jefferson’s hand and sat opposite him.

  Within fifteen seconds Rosa herself was at their booth.

  “Bad enough I got cops coming in here now you’re bringing him with you,” she lightly chided Jefferson referring to Carvelli. “You know Tony, I think you have a tab around here that you still owe,” she kidded Carvelli.

  “You say that to me every time I come in here,” he said.

  “‘Cause you ain’t paid it.”

  Tony gently took her right hand gently kissed the back of it and said, “But I still love you. Let’s run off together.”

  “You’re too old for me. You couldn’t keep up,” the sixty-something Rosa replied.

  “Probably true,” Jefferson said.

  Rosa winked at Jefferson with a sly smile then took a pen from behind her right ear. She took their order and left the two men to talk.

  Jefferson quickly explained where he was with the investigation and the problem with the arrest and search warrants. When he finished he said, “We need a boost. We need to figure out how he’s doing this.”

  “If he’s doing it,” Carvelli corrected him. “The guy’s been under surveillance except for a couple of days since he got out. He has the best alibi ever. What about the other two, what’s their names…?”

  “Forsberg and Parlow,” Jefferson said.

  “Yeah, what about them?”

  “I don’t see Parlow being smart enough to pull this off,” Jefferson told him. “Forsberg, to be honest, looks as good for it as Traynor does. But we got DNA on Traynor…”

  “Okay, but don’t kid yourself about Parlow. He’s as big an asshole as Traynor…”

  “…and we’ve been having more trouble keeping track of him than Forsberg or Howie,” Jefferson added. “Look Tony, I don’t know why but my gut tells me that it’s Traynor. At this point we’re chasing our tails and I want to either nail his ass or eliminate him.”

  Rosa brought their lunches and the three of them engaged in a little more good-natured banter. She left and the two men went to work on their meals.

  “Okay,” Tony said a few minutes later. “I know what I can do but you are not going to be told. The less you know the better. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “You got it,” Jefferson said while wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. He slyly smiled to himself knowing perfectly well what the former MPD detective had in mind.

  While Owen Jefferson and Tony Carvelli were meeting for lunch, Marcie Sterling parked in the lot of St. Andrew’s Catholic Church. She was followed and accompanied by two large MPD uniformed cops, Sergeant Paul Hemer and Officer Kyle Fulton. Hemer was driving the squad car and he parked it behind Howie’s car effectively blocking it in. Having seen them arrive, Father John Brinkley opened the door for them before they reached it.

  Marcie introduced themselves to the priest while showing him her credentials. She politely asked Father John to take them to Howie Traynor.

  The priest led them downstairs into the basement where Howie was eating lunch. All the way down Father John kept asking questions about why they were there and what they wanted. Marcie courteously deflected each question with a standard inability to divulge this information response.

  “Howard Traynor?” Marcie asked when they arrived at his table. Howie had seen them coming across the floor of the basement’s common area. He quickly shoved the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth then turned back to look at them.

  “Yes,” Howie said to Marcie’s question while still chewing.

  “We need you to come with us,” Marcie answered.

  “Is he under arrest?” the priest asked.

  “Am I?” Howie also inquired.

  “No, we just want you to come downtown for a chat.”

  At that moment, the younger uniformed cop, Fulton, the larger of the two, step forward in a menacing manner. When he did this the old Howie Traynor returned for a brief moment, enough to make a point. The expression on his face changed enough to let the cop know Howie was not to be intimidated by a mere cop. Fulton got the message and so did Marcie and Sergeant Hemer.

  “This building is a place of worship and a sanctuary,” Father John reminded them trying to find cover for Howie.

  “It’s his place of employment,” Marcie corrected the priest. She looked at Howie and asked, “Are you requesting sanctuary from the Church?”

  Howie thought it over for a second then stood up and said, “No, I’ll come with you. I have nothing to hide and I would like to get this over with.”

  The priest started to say something but Howie interrupted him. “It’s all right, Father. I know what they want. They think I have something to do with these murders, but I don’t. So I might as well go with them and see if I can convince them. Will you call a lawyer for me, please Father? His name is Marc Kadella,” Howie asked him then spelled Marc’s name. “Ask him to meet me there.”
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br />   “I will and I’ll be downtown myself right behind you,” Father John replied.

  While he was being led out of the church, Howie said, “I’ll tell you right now, I’m not answering any questions until my lawyer gets there.”

  “That’s your right and we will respect that,” a disappointed Marcie Sterling replied.

  Marcie drove her car into the underground parking of the Old City Hall. The two uniforms, with Howie Traynor in the back of their squad car, followed her down the ramp. Within minutes they hustled him upstairs to the police department and into an interrogation room. Marcie left Officer Fulton in the conference room at the door to watch Howie while she went to find Owen Jefferson.

  Marcie stuck her head into the conference room they were using as an office and found it to be empty. She turned to the detectives in the room and said, “Anybody seen Jefferson?”

  Before anyone could answer he came into the room through the hallway doors.

  “Never mind,” Marcie said.

  They greeted each other and Marcie held the door for him as they went into their private office space. Selena Kane saw Jefferson arrive and she entered the room right behind him.

  “He lawyered up,” Marcie told them. “Says he won’t talk to us without a lawyer.”

  “Let’s get him one,” Kane said.

  “His priest is calling one for him,” Marcie said. “A guy Howie told him to call.”

  “What do you want to do?” Kane asked Jefferson.

  “Wait for his lawyer. In the meantime, I’ll call Steve Gondeck at Slocum’s office and have him come over,” Jefferson answered his boss as he started dialing the department phone.

  There was a sharp knock on the door, a detective stuck his head in and said, “There’s a priest here. Says he is this Traynor guy’s priest and insists on seeing him.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Kane said.

  A minute later Kane opened the door to the interrogation room and let Father John go in. She then motioned for Officer Fulton to step out and she told him to watch the door from outside the room.

  THIRTY-TWO

  An hour after Father John called him, Marc Kadella arrived at the police department. He was escorted into the detective’s room where he was spotted by Steve Gondeck.

  “What’s going on?” Marc asked Gondeck as the two men shook hands.

  “Are you the lawyer the priest called and do you represent him?” Gondeck asked.

  “Yes, and for today I represent him. We’ll see about anything more than that,” Marc replied. “I was in court across the street and got a text from my office. You guys picked up Howie Traynor?”

  “Yeah, we did.”

  “For this Crown of Thornes business?”

  “Well, um, yeah. For questioning about it,” Gondeck said.

  “Why?”

  “Can’t tell you that,” Gondeck said.

  Marc looked at his friend for a moment then said, “What do you mean, you can’t tell me that?”

  “He’s not under arrest yet.”

  “What does that mean, yet? In other words, you don’t have enough for an arrest warrant or a search warrant so you’re fishing. Where is he?” Marc asked without waiting for an answer.

  The two lawyers had been standing by an empty desk. By this time Kane, Jefferson and Sterling joined them. It was Jefferson who answered Marc about Traynor’s whereabouts.

  “He’s in an interrogation room with his priest. I’ll take you there.”

  Jefferson led the way with Marc trailing behind, briefcase in hand. He was followed by Gondeck, Kane and Sterling. When they reached the room, Fulton opened the door to let Marc go in.

  “If I find out you’re listening in on this…” Marc started to say to the cops.

  “Hey, you know me better than that,” Gondeck indignantly replied.

  “A friendly reminder,” Marc smiled.

  Marc entered the room and found Traynor and the priest seated at the table together. Both men’s hands were folded as if they had been praying. Howie had a contrite and worried look on his face.

  “Mr. Kadella, I swear I had nothing to do with any of this,” Howie blurted out before the door was closed behind him.

  “Relax, Howie. Nothing’s happening yet,” Marc said. He introduced himself to the priest then politely asked him to leave.

  “He can stay,” Howie said.

  “The priest-penitent privilege might not apply to our discussion,” Marc said.

  “It’s okay, Howard,” Father John said, as he pushed back his chair and stood to leave. “I’ll wait right outside.”

  “Did the cops say anything to you?” Marc asked when the priest left.

  “No, nothing,” Howie replied. “I been around the block a few times. I got a past, I know that. But I ain’t done nothing and the cops know it. They’re just hassling me ‘cause they’re desperate.”

  “Why do you think they know you haven’t done anything?”

  “Because they’ve been following me. Almost since the day we were in court and I got out.”

  “How do you know that?” Marc asked.

  “‘Cause I’ve seen them. They sit outside my apartment all night and follow me everywhere. I’m not that stupid.”

  Marc thought about what his client had just told him then said, “Just a second.”

  He stood up, opened the door and said, “Come on in.”

  Gondeck, Kane, Jefferson and Sterling all filed into the interrogation room along with Father John who sat down next to Howie as the three cops and Steve Gondeck stood along one wall. Marc closed the door behind them, sat down and abruptly asked, “Have you been following my client? Have you been conducting twenty-four hour a day surveillance of him?”

  It was Jefferson who answered. “We are not at liberty to discuss police procedures regarding an ongoing investigation.”

  “So, the answer is yes, you have,” Marc said. “This means his alibi for these murders is about as good as it gets.” This last statement was made by Marc while he looked directly at Steve Gondeck. “We’re leaving,” Marc said as he stood up.

  “Wait, Mr. Kadella,” Howie said. “I’ll say one thing.”

  “I’m advising you not to,” Marc told him as he sat down again.

  “It’s okay,” Howie told Marc. “I know you think that somehow I have done these murders. I haven’t. But I’ve been thinking about it and my money is on the Forsberg guy and probably Gene Parlow.”

  “Why do you say that?” Jefferson asked.

  Howie looked at Marc who said, “Go ahead. Tell him why.”

  “Because every time we go to the lawyer, that woman who’s suing the city for us, they’re both there before me and pretty chummy. Then when I get there they clam up. And I know Forsberg is really angry about the whole thing. He’s pissed about getting screwed when he was convicted and he’s pissed about the settlement offer.

  “I knew Gene Parlow when I was in prison. He used to bitch all the time about how his lawyer screwed him over and he’d like to get even. If I was you guys, I’d look at them.”

  “Is my client under arrest?” Marc asked when Howie finished.

  “No,” Gondeck replied.

  “Is he willing to take a lie detector test?” Selena Kane abruptly jumped in.

  “There’s no such thing as a lie detector,” Marc said. “It’s a fantasy for TV. If he passes the test will you guys leave him alone? No. If he fails it, then what? So to answer your question, no, he will not take a polygraph.”

  Marc looked at Gondeck and said, “I want the harassment of my client to stop. No more surveillance.”

  “No one’s harassing Mr. Traynor,” Gondeck replied.

  Marc stared at Gondeck, realizing he had not admitted to the surveillance but had also not agreed to end it.

  “They better not, Steve,” Marc said.

  “Is that a threat?” Kane asked.

  “Don’t even try that ‘is that a threat’ line with me, Lieutenant. I’m not impresse
d. Let’s go,” Marc said. Marc, Howie and Father John stood up and walked out.

  Steve Gondeck, Jefferson and Marcie Sterling were seated at the table in the conference room. Selena Kane was on the phone giving the chief an update. Gondeck was looking at the names on the whiteboard, specifically the ones with a circle around them.

  “Could he be right?” Gondeck asked. “Is it this Parlow guy or Forsberg or maybe both of them?”

  “Maybe,” Jefferson answered him.

  “Maybe? You do realize that alone is enough to create reasonable doubt,” the prosecuting attorney said.

  “Something’s been bothering me. How would Parlow or Forsberg know who Elliot Sanders was? How did they know he was the jury foreman at Traynor’s trial?” Marcie asked. “We’re assuming that at least two of the last three victims were killed to cast doubt and confuse us. The lawyers for Parlow and Forsberg, Segal and Meyers, would have been easy to find out. But Traynor’s jury foreman…”

  “I don’t know. How did you find out?” Gondeck asked.

  “We called the court clerk’s office and they looked it up for us,” Jefferson said.

  “They should have a record of anyone else making that inquiry,” Gondeck said. “But Forsberg could easily be computer savvy enough to find out on his own.”

  “Parlow, probably not,” Marcie said.

  “That doesn’t eliminate him,” Gondeck said. “So, we’re back to these two guys could be involved.”

  “What about all three together?” Jefferson asked.

  The small room went silent while the three of them thought this over. A minute later it was Marcie who broke the silence.

  “Possible, but not likely.”

  “Why?” Gondeck asked.

  “Because Traynor just handed us the other two,” Marcie said. “Would he do that if he was involved with them?”

  “Good point,” Jefferson glumly agreed.

  “Hey,” Gondeck leaned across the table and looked at the cops. “We can’t dismiss anything right now. Keep digging, we have to find something. But one thing’s for sure, Traynor’s lawyer is right. He has an airtight alibi courtesy of the MPD.”