“And this morning’s news shows,” Sandy Compton, the other office assistant chimed in.
Carolyn held out the A section of the Minneapolis Star Tribune to Marc. “Front page headlines,” she said.
“Can I have your autograph?” Jeff Modell, the office paralegal mockingly asked.
“I just want to bask in your glory,” Sandy added fluttering her eyelids.
Marc ignored the sarcasm and took the paper into his office. He hung up his suit coat, sat down and began reading the account of the previous evening’s events. Before he finished the intercom buzzed.
“Hey, Gabriella Shriqui is on the phone. You want to talk to her?” Carolyn asked him.
“I guess so, put her through,” Marc answered her.
“Plus you walked off pouting...”
“I am not pouting.”
“Whatever. Anyway, you have a dozen messages from other media types. You want them?”
“As I recall you have a perfectly good shredder out there. Feel free to use it.”
“Will do, here’s Gabriella.”
“Good morning, Marc,” Gabriella Shriqui said. Gabriella had been the on-scene court reporter for a local TV station. She interviewed Marc several times during trials Marc did and they had become casual friends. Gabriella was now the host of her own local show, The Court Reporter. She was also a good friend of Marc’s investigator, Maddy Rivers and it didn’t hurt that she was stop traffic gorgeous.
“Hey, kid,” Marc replied. “What’s up?”
“I see your name’s involved with the shooting of one of the Sutherland kids by their stepmother, Mackenzie. Are you representing her?”
“No comment,” Marc said with a smile Gabriella could not see.
“Don’t give me that ‘no comment’ bullshit,” she said. “You owe me...”
“Why is it I always owe you? Why don’t you ever owe me?”
“Because of all of the great free publicity I give you. That and I always wiggle my ass for you when I know you’re watching,” she laughed.
“You are a shameless hussy,” Marc jokingly chastised.
“Come on the show this afternoon and I’ll wear a short skirt,” she laughed again. Turning serious she continued, “This Sutherland shooting is great stuff and I want the inside scoop.”
“You’re starting to sound like Melinda Pace,” Marc said. Melinda Pace was the original host of Gabriella’s show. No one would have nominated Melinda for an excellence in journalism award.
“Seriously?” Gabriella asked with legitimate concern.
“Keep it in mind,” Marc said. “Look, for now, and this is completely off the record, Mackenzie Sutherland has a solid self-defense claim.”
“That wasn’t in the paper,” Gabriella said.
“That’s shocking that they didn’t have all of the facts before they rushed to put it in the paper and on local news,” Marc sarcastically replied. “Here’s what they have and I’ll quote,” Marc continued reading from the paper, “Informed sources close to the investigation claim the shooting is part of an ongoing dispute over the estate of William Sutherland, the founder of Sutherland’s grocery store chain. Who are these informed sources they are using? Somebody whispers this to a reporter, that reporter runs with it, then pretty soon you’re all using it. It’s bullshit, Gabriella, and sloppy journalism.”
Carolyn opened his door, stuck her head in and quietly said, “Maddy’s here.”
“Maddy’s here,” Marc told Gabriella. “I have to go. I’ll call you later and if it’s okay with my client I’ll come on your show in the next day or two. Okay?”
“All right,” Gabriella agreed. “Say hello to my buddy for me.”
“Will do.”
Even at the tail end of rush hour, traffic on eastbound I-94 between Minneapolis and St. Paul was heavy although moving fairly well. Marc and Maddy made a little small talk, mostly about the scene at the Sutherland house the night before.
“Do you believe her?” Maddy bluntly asked as they crossed the Mississippi River bridge into St. Paul.
Marc turned his head to look at her for a second then resumed driving while he thought about his response.
“That’s a strange question,” he said while Maddy continued to look at him to check out his reaction.
“Do you?” she asked again. “You know her, I don’t.”
Marc glanced at her again then said, “I’m her lawyer. Yes, I believe her Ms. Cynical ex-cop. Don’t you?”
Maddy laughed her delightful, genuine laugh then said, “Yes, I do. I just wanted to get your reaction. Plus, I went over all of the pictures I took and unless the cops come up with something different, the forensics support her story. The fireplace poker was on his lap. I suppose she could have planted it but that’s a stretch.”
“Cynical ex-cop,” Marc repeated with a smile.
“Something’s bugging me, though,” Maddy continued. “There’s something about her. She looks familiar to me but I can’t place it.”
“Happens all the time, Madeline.”
“True enough,” she agreed and dropped the subject.
They picked up Mackenzie from the hotel she stayed in and made it to police headquarters at 9:45 A.M. The three of them checked in, received visitor badges and a uniformed sergeant escorted them to the meeting room.
Waiting for them were the two detectives from the night before, Anna Finney and Dale Kubik. Also present was their immediate supervisor, Lt. Randall Evans and two lawyers from the Ramsey County Attorney’s office, Heather Anderson and Wade Keenan.
All of the officials from Ramsey county and St. Paul were seated along one side of a conference table. At one end, facing the chair at the opposite end of the table, was a video camera. On the wall behind the camera was a one-way mirror; a window for a room where people could watch.
“Hi, Heather,” Marc said greeting the assistant county attorney.
Introductions were made then Mackenzie took the chair at the head of the table facing the camera. Marc took the first chair to her left, Maddy, the one next to him. Heather Anderson, the lead attorney was to Mackenzie’s right. Evans turned on the video camera when Anderson indicated she was ready.
Anderson spoke everyone’s name into the record; gave the date, time, place and purpose of the meeting then turned to Mackenzie and said, “Now, Mrs, Sutherland…”
“Before you start,” Marc interrupted her. “I want to put something on the record.”
“Sure, Mr. Kadella, go ahead,” Heather smiled.
“Mackenzie Sutherland is here voluntarily. She has no legal obligation to be here and tell her side of the shooting of Robert Sutherland. In fact, it is her constitutional right not to do so. I want to make sure she understands that if she chooses to do so at any time, she can stop this and refuse to answer any more questions. Or, if she wants to take a break to confer with counsel she can do so. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, I do,” Mackenzie quietly replied.
“Okay,” Marc said.
“Mrs. Sutherland, we want you to tell us in your own words, what happened yesterday that led to the death of your stepson, Robert Sutherland.”
“Okay,” Mackenzie started looking a little nervous, “Bob called me…”
“By Bob you mean the victim, Robert Sutherland?” Anderson asked.
“Object to the use of the word victim,” Marc said.
“Marc, we’re not in court,” Anderson said.
“I don’t care,” Marc said. “Words matter. At this point he is not a victim of anything.”
“Okay, point taken,” Heather said. “Please continue, Mrs. Sutherland.”
“Yes, Bob is Robert Sutherland. Anyway, he called me around 4:00, 4:15 somewhere in there. He said he wanted to stop by the house and see me. He said he wanted to talk to me.”
“Did he tell you what he wanted to talk to you about?” Heather asked.
“No, he did not. I figured it was probably about his father’s money.”
; “Why?”
“Because their father, Bill, pretty much cut Bob, his brother Adam and sister Hailey out of his Will a few months before he died. Even though I had no idea he did it, they never believed me. They believe I pressured their dad into it or somehow got him to change his Will. I didn’t and the lawyer who changed the Will has told the kids this but they still don’t believe it.”
“All right, please go on.”
“I agreed to see him at the Crocus Hill house and he came by shortly after 7:00.”
“When you spoke to him on the phone at 4:00, did he sound angry or upset?” Heather asked.
“No, he didn’t.”
“Okay, please continue.”
“I led him into the living room. I sat down on a sofa and he took a chair facing me, next to the fireplace.”
“There was a fire going in the fireplace. Why?” Detective Finney asked.
“Because it was a rainy, chilly day and I didn’t want to turn on the furnace. It was a little chilly in the house and the fire felt good. I told you this last night,” Mackenzie politely reminded the detective.
“After the two of you sat down, what happened next?” Heather asked.
Mackenzie took a deep breath then said, “He started right in again. Once again accusing me of manipulating their father against the three kids to get him to change his Will and cut them out. We had been over this many times and I was getting tired of it.”
“Where did the gun come from that you used to shoot him?” Heather Anderson abruptly asked hoping to catch Mackenzie off guard.
“It was Bill’s gun…” Mackenzie started to say, a little confused at the sudden change of direction.
“No, what I meant was where did you have it while you were talking?”
“Oh, I see. I had it in the right hand pocket of my skirt,” Mackenzie replied.
“Do you always carry…?” Heather started to ask.
“What do you say we let her finish then you can try to catch her with ‘gotcha’ questions,” Marc interjected. “By the time she’s done you’ll likely know everything.”
“Please continue,” Heather Anderson said a touch of annoyance in her voice.
“Where was I?” Mackenzie rhetorically asked, “Oh, yes, I remember. He accused me of manipulating their dad to cut them out of his Will. I reminded him again, the lawyer who made the new Will told them Bill verified I knew nothing about it. Then I told him the real reason his dad changed his Will was because he was not pleased with them.”
“How so?” Marc asked.
Mackenzie looked at Marc then turned back to the camera.
“Bill thought Bob, the oldest, was a total wimp. His wife, Paige, whom Bill despised, led him around by the nose. Hailey and Adam were worse. Hailey had been the apple of her dad’s eye before she became, and these are Bill’s words, not mine, ‘a cheap slut who didn’t have any sense of morality or values at all.’ Adam was the worst of the three of them. Drugs, booze, fast cars and bimbos were his passion. Again, those were Bill’s words but I agree with him. Could I get a glass of water?” Mackenzie asked Marc.
While Marc was pouring her a glass of water, she continued.
“At that point, he got down to the real reason he came to see me. He accused me, again, of murdering Bill. I denied it again, then he said he was going to have Bill’s body dug up and a new autopsy performed.
“I didn’t know what to say to that. Of course, I didn’t want that done. It sounded ghoulish. Let the poor man rest in peace next to Elizabeth, his first wife and the kids’ mother. So I told him I was against that but he said he had talked to a lawyer and the lawyer, I believe he saw Simon Kane, told him it wouldn’t be a problem.
“I said I would oppose it and then Bob told me he would let the whole thing go if I paid the three of them each ten percent of what the company was sold for. Somehow he knew how much that was and he wanted two point seven million for each of them.”
“What did you say to that?” Heather asked.
“I was absolutely appalled. I thought about throwing him out but instead I said something like, ‘Let me see if I understand you. You believe I murdered your father but you’re willing to let that slide if I pay the three of you eight point one million dollars. Is that what you’re saying?’”
“Then he said: ‘The old tyrant is dead. We just want what we had coming before you screwed us.’”
“By then I had had enough and I told him to get out. I told him they didn’t deserve anything and I wasn’t going to pay blackmail.
“He got really angry. I could see it in his eyes and face. He stood up, grabbed the fireplace poker, waved it at me and yelled something like, ‘you fucking bitch, I’ll make you pay for what you did’ and he took a step toward me.
“The next thing I remember, he was lying by the fireplace and I was holding the gun. I remember going into the dining room and calling 9-1-1. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely punch the numbers. I remember talking to a woman but I can’t really recall everything I said. I must have told her I shot someone. I’m sure I did.
“Then I was sitting at the dining room table and a couple minutes later I thought to call Marc. I found his card, called him and he told me to stay where I was and not talk to the police until he got there.
“I remember it seemed like an hour but was probably only a few minutes. Then all of a sudden, there were people all over the place.
“After a little while Marc and Ms. Rivers arrived, we talked and well, here we are,” Mackenzie concluded. She picked up the glass of water and as her hand trembled slightly, took a large drink.
“What happened to the gun? After you shot Robert Sutherland, what did you do with the gun?” Detective Finney asked. “You didn’t mention it.”
“The gun? Um, I’m not sure. I think I dropped it or maybe tossed it away in the living room. Why? Didn’t you find it?” Mackenzie answered.
“Yes, they found it,” Marc answered her. “In the living room right where you dropped it.”
“Why did you have a gun in your pocket in the first place?” Finney asked.
Mackenzie looked at Marc who said, “Go ahead, tell them.”
“Because Bob had threatened me several times. I’m not sure I was afraid of him but I was worried. I thought if he threatened me again, I’d scare him with the gun,” she said.
“Can anyone verify this?” Heather Anderson asked.
“Yes,” Mackenzie said. “The lawyer who handled the estate and the sale of the company, Cooper Thomas. Bob threatened me in his conference room when they were told about Bill’s estate and the sale of the company. The other two Sutherland kids were there too but they’ll lie.
“There was someone else there,” Mackenzie continued as if she just now remembered. “Cooper had a security man in the room because he was worried about how the three of them would react to the news about the money. In fact, when Bob threatened me, he stood up behind Bob to protect me. I don’t know his name. Cooper will have it.”
Mackenzie took Cooper’s card from her purse and handed it to Heather Anderson. She wrote down the information then gave it to Finney who did the same thing.
“Will you call Mr. Thomas and give him permission to talk to the detectives?” Heather asked.
“Oh sure, certainly,” Mackenzie answered.
Marc waited a few seconds then asked, “Mrs. Sutherland, describe your feelings when Robert Sutherland waved the fireplace poker at you.”
“I was really scared. I’d never seen Bob so mad. Usually he’s kind of passive but the look in his eyes and on his face was terrible. I truly believed he was going to kill me. I remember standing up, he took a step toward me then I shot him.”
“To be clear, are you saying you were in fear of your life at that moment?” Marc asked.
“Yes, absolutely,” Mackenzie answered him.
For the next half-hour, the authorities asked her questions, mostly going over the same ground. It was obvious they were trying to trip her up, u
nsuccessfully. Mackenzie handled the questioning and Marc finally called a halt to it.
“Since she is telling the truth you’re not going to poke holes in her story. I think we’ve done enough for today,” Marc said. “Now what?” he asked Anderson.
“Now, we’ll complete our investigation and let you know,” she said.
“I want a copy of the 9-1-1 tape,” Marc said. “Have you listened to it?”
“Yes, I have,” Anderson said.
“And?”
“It’s corroborative,” Anderson admitted.
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Marc said. “People do have the right to defend themselves, especially in their homes.”
“I know, Marc,” she agreed. “I didn’t mean to sound disappointed.”
“I want a copy of this video also,” Marc said. “Can you convert it to DVD?”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll messenger both to your office probably today or first thing tomorrow,” Anderson promised him.
As the three of them were getting ready to leave, the police lieutenant shut off the camera and asked, “Are you willing to take a lie detector…”
“Yes,” Mackenzie quickly answered.
“…test?” Evans finished.
“No,” Marc emphatically said. “Not a chance,” he continued looking at Anderson.
“Why not?” the cop asked.
Marc looked at Evans then said, “Because there’s no such thing as a lie detector test and you know it.”
“I don’t mind,” Mackenzie said.
“Listen to your lawyer,” Maddy quietly told Mackenzie. Both women were standing and Maddy gently took Mackenzie’s arm to lead her away.
“You will listen to your lawyer on this,” Marc sternly said to Mackenzie with a serious look in his eye. “I’ll explain why when we leave.”
Marc turned his head back to the people across the table and repeated, “No polygraph and I better not read about her refusing it in the papers.”
When the three of them were back in Marc’s car and driving toward downtown to take Mackenzie to the hotel, Mackenzie asked Marc about the lie detector test.
“First of all, there is no such thing as a lie detector machine,” Marc began. “It measures body functions; skin temperature, heart rate, breathing that kind of thing. They are not reliable.”
Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series) Page 186